


Learning to Trust

by Rose_Stem



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Romance, canon divergence -804, jamie and brienne fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-03-06 23:31:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 61,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18861166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_Stem/pseuds/Rose_Stem
Summary: Jamie Lannister and Brienne of Tarth have circled around each other for too long. After surviving The Long Night together they brush aside any reservations and finally allow themselves to face their true feelings for one another. But with the all of Westeros in upheaval, their choices may not be there own.***Begins during Episode 8x04 when Jamie follows Brienne to her room. After watching the latest episode, I just needed to get some words down because I am not happy! This will be an alternative ending to the series (TV) told from Jamie and Brienne's POVs. My first time writing any kind of fan fiction so bear with me. I will undoubtedly romanticise their relationship a little too much, but I can't help it. I am a sucker for romance. Also, kind of just want to get back into the habit of writing daily so this will be a good challenge.***





	1. Choices

Time stood still as Brienne soaked in the sight of Jamie’s bare chest, the expanse scattered with darkened hair that matched his thickening beard. With tentative hands, she reached out to touch him, enjoying the sensation beneath her fingertips.

A smile tugged at his lips. Knowing him as she did, she surmised that he found her nerves amusing. They _were_. Only days before she had stood with the living and fought death itself. She had been surer of herself then than she felt standing naked before Jamie Lannister.

Of course she would be nervous. He was still almost unnaturally handsome despite the lines creeping onto his face and strands of grey mixed in with the spun gold. What gave her the courage to close the distance between them and commit to giving him her virginity had nothing to do with his famed appearance. It was the strength inside the man, his journey to become someone better than who he had once been.

He was not a perfect man, not even close, but he had proved himself to her time and time again. For the first time since leaving Tarth, she was going to act selfishly. She would take what he offered and no matter how things ended between them she would have no regrets regarding this night.

“Brienne, you’re thinking too hard. My question is: are you attempting to convince yourself if this is a good or a bad idea?” There was a teasing note to his voice that she had grown used to.

“I don’t care if it is right or wrong. My choice is you.”

His eyes grew serious as his hand rose to cup her cheek. “And I choose you.”

Brienne swallowed her doubts allowing herself to be overtaken by him. His lips landed on hers with renewed urgency, his tongue leading hers in a wild dance. The unfamiliar sensation adding to the flames that threated to overwhelm her.

Jamie nudged her towards the bed without breaking contact. Inexperience and perhaps the drink she had consumed earlier in the evening, caused her to stumble. He steadied her, capturing her hand with his and led her to the bed.

Brienne scrambled onto the soft furnishing, unable to divert her eyes from the length of his hard body, still battered and bruised from the battle with the dead. Her face flushed when she realised she had been caught staring him.

She had seen cocks before, how could she avoid them being surrounded by men for so long? But she had seen them in a relaxed state, never one so hard, begging for attention.

Her own desire was building with every second that passed, reacting to Jamie’s intense perusal that left her squirming. She was worried that if his gaze lingered too long, he would realise how much she was lacking. Excitement and anxiety warred within her. Hope and fear battling to take precedence.

As if he sensed her inner struggle, Jamie finally set himself above her, lowering his body onto hers. She trembled at the contact, the sensual touch so foreign and new.

She relaxed into his kisses, happy to follow his lead in this. Before long her body arched against his restlessly, searching for something she knew only he could give. Occasionally, his cock brushed against her core, causing them both to hiss in pleasure.

How long passed before he drew back she didn’t know. Her mind and body was a shaking mass of molten liquid that craved his touch. A small sound of distress escaped her lips when he retreated onto his knees. With care he traced a blackened bruise covering a large portion of her left side.

“I thought I had lost you.” His whispered, his voice hoarse. “I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.”

She had the same fears. How many sleepless nights had she had worrying about whether he still lived? She was not quite ready to admit that so she tempered her response. “You would continue on.”

Pressing a kiss to her belly, he shook his head. “I don’t think I could. A world without you would be excruciating.”

She ran a hand through his golden locks, concerned by the finality of his tone. “Jamie, if I had to leave this world it would only be bearable if I was sure that you lived for the both of us.”

A storm flew into his eyes. “You’re not leaving me.”

She smiled. “You started the wretched conversation. My mind was on other things. More important matters.”

The storm was cleared by his arrogant grin. “And what would they be, wench?”

The scathing response she had conjured stilled on her lips. Jamie had slid down the bed, forcing her legs open with his wide chest. His face sat directly between her legs. Her hands fisted in the sheets at the first swipe of his tongue on the sensitive bud she hadn’t known she possessed.

Pleasure bolted to every corner of her body. A part of her was shocked at the act, scandalised even, but a larger part was uncaring. She would follow wherever he led. To stop herself from flailing around like a madwoman, she clutched at Jamie’s hair.

When she thought she could take no more, her hips tried to buck away of there own accord, but Jamie’s strong arms kept her locked into placed. Completely at his mercy.

He continued to lap at her mound, drawing gasps on wonder and unabandoned pleasure, until she reached the peak and tumbled over the edge. Her cries echoed from the walls rebounding back at her.

Falling flat against the bed, she caught a glimpse of Jamie’s satisfied smirk. Gods, she would allow him that after the way he had so expertly dominated her body.

“You will alert the whole of Winterfell if you continue on like that.” Brienne’s entire body turned an unattractive shade of red at the comment. She had not been that like.

Ignoring his goads, she let it pass, knowing she would exact her revenge at the next possibly opportunity.

He climbed up her heated body, nipping at her skin lightly as he did so. She ran her fingers over his muscled arms in reverence unable to quite believe that she was able to like this with him. After everything they had been through, she never thought it possible.

Well, if dragons and dead ice kings were real, she could bed Jamie Lannister. Anything was possible these days it seemed.

When her hand touched his cold golden one, he stiffened. Frowning, she met his eye. “You can take it off.”

He studied her for a moment. “It doesn’t bother you one bit, does it?”

“No.” She said simply, honestly. In fact, she preferred the stump to the blazon display of wealth she knew his sister insist he wear.

Helping him remove the hand, she banished thoughts of that woman from her mind. Brienne refused to let her come between them this night.

Settling on top of her against, Jamie brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. “Are you sure? Patience has never come easily to me, but I would wait for you.”

“I want you now.” There was no doubt in her mind. He had awakened something within her and she needed to know it all.

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest. “I’m not the only impatient one.” He lowered his head to her breast, taking a beaded nipple into his mouth. Combined with his hand trailing down her body, all the way to her core, it was too much.

Distantly she was aware of a blunt finger at the entrance, gliding into the wetness that he had wrung from her body. She rocked her hips to meet his invasion, sucking in a jagged breath when he another finger joined his sensual assault.

“Gods, Brienne.”

Her body was humming with need. “Please, I need more.”

“Look at me.” He commanded with force. “Look at me.”

Brienne opened her eyes, unaware that they had been closed. His jade eyes met hers with an intensity that she had never witnessed before. Her heart beat wildly beneath her breast. Placing a hand on his chest, she was ecstatic to find that his was just as wild.

Leaning on his right arm, his left hand disappeared between them. His rigid length pressed against her and she rose up to meet him.

“Slowly,” he chastised her, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Biting back a groan, she waited for him to slid very gently inside of her. Brienne stilled, surprised by the sensation. He cock was unyielding, a large force that made her feel impossibly full. Sweat beaded on her skin as she attempted to get accommodated to the size of him.

She had expected a lot more pain, but there was only a sharp pinching that faded into nothingness as Jamie eased inside of her. It cost him to be so still, she mused. Above her his expression was strained.

Brienne slid her hands down his solid back and rested them on his buttocks, urging him inside of her.

He let out a sharp breath against her neck. “Brienne.”

“I’m not a fragile maid.”

“I’m well aware of that, wench.”

“Then take me.”

A sound that resembled something suspiciously like a growl emerged from him before he surged forward and settled himself completed inside of her. Brienne cried out from the impact, loving the way his strong body reared against hers.

The control he had displayed moments before had snapped. She could only hold onto him as he thrust into her, igniting sparks of fire deep inside of her body. Head buried in the curve of her neck, he drilled into her relentlessly. Brienne wove her fingers into his hair, lost in the all-encompassing pleasure of the moment. Nothing would compare to the connection that pulsed between them.

Teeth scraping against her shoulder, he bit down into her soft flesh. The titillating ghost of pain that was needed to break her consciousness into a thousand pieces. Moments later, Jamie stilled inside of her, spilling his seed with a low moan.

She could have laid like that forever, so closely intertwined with the man she loved that she couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.

With some effort on his part, Jamie rolled beside her, causing her to wince slightly as he pulled himself free from her body. Unfortunately, he was observant. Scowling, he began to lecture her. “I should not have been so rough with you and you should not have encouraged me.”

“My body is resilient.” She assured him.

His calloused hand rested on her taut stomach. “You think yourself invincible.”

She yawn unceremoniously. “No, I don’t.” She swallowed another yawn, turning to the warmth of his body. “Don’t argue with me, I’m tired. Jamie.” She protested when he rose from the bed.

He disappeared from sight, returning with a cloth. Brienne allowed him to wash between her legs before he snuggled back down beside her, though she was embarrassed by his insistence to clean her himself.

It was forgotten when he pulled the covers over them and drew her into him arms. “Now that I’ve had you, I’m not letting you go.”

His words both exhilarated and frightened her. She couldn’t deny that she wanted him. She couldn’t even deny that she loved him. But their world was threaded with uncertainty. Forces moved that they could not control.

“Since we’re not in imminent danger of dying, we have time to…” She trailed off, uncertain exactly what she was trying to say. “We can take our time. I don’t expect anything from you.”

The hand stroking her hair halted. “After everything we’ve shared, do you still believe the worst of me?”

Sensing his hurt, she drew back to meet his eyes. “No, that is not what I meant. But I do know you. You’re impulsive. I made this decision knowing that it didn’t equate to a commitment.”

He sighed, tightening his arms around her. “You’re going to learn to trust me.”

“I do trust you.” She said, earnestly. “You know I do.”

“To guard your back perhaps, but not as a woman trusts a man.”

“Jamie, “ She started to deny his words, but realised that they were true. Walking into a battlefield with him by her side felt right because she knew with all certainty that he would fight for her as brutally as she would fight for him.

Bedding him was entirely different matter. Her own doubts in her abilities as a woman played a significant role. But it was Jamie that concerned her the most. His relationship with his sister was twisted, built on years upon years of toxicity. She wondered about his capacity to commit to another woman, to have a relationship without the power games and element of risk.

She would rather not hear his promises and oaths if in the end he broke them.

“Go to sleep. I have time to convince you yet.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, holding her closely. Brienne relaxed into his embrace, her mind grasping for the sweet oblivion of sleep.

 

 

 


	2. Waking Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie wakes to find Brienne gone and is then grilled by Tyrion.

 

Waking alone, Jamie rolled onto his back, momentarily taken back by the unfamiliar surroundings. The dimly lit chamber was larger than his own with more furnishings. When his eyes landed on Oathkeeper, images of writhing flesh flashed through his mind.

Brienne’s room.

Last night he had been compelled to follow her, nothing could have stopped him, including the red-haired giant who constantly sniffed around her like a lost dog.1`

Still, he hadn’t expected the turn of events. He had hoped, but common sense had told him that Brienne would send him running from her room with a few more bruises to add to his impressive collection. Instead, she had given herself to him. A treasured gift he was acutely aware he did not deserve.

The vacant space where she had laid in his arms all night had gone cold. She must have been gone for some time already, most likely summoned by Sansa Stark. Jamie huffed a breath, frustrated that he had not had the chance to talk to Brienne before she had disappeared.

Their final conversation troubled him. Yes, following her had been a monumental decision, but not one based on impulse as she thought. He had gone to her because facing certain death had given him some much-needed perspective.

In those moments he had been convinced that he was going to die there was no one else he wanted by his side. Every time she looked at him with those shockingly beautiful sapphire eyes, he saw a combination of strength and vulnerability that tightened his heart. Her pure intentions appealed to the optimistic young knight that he had intentionally attempted to bury over the years.

He couldn’t blame her for keeping some distance between them, acknowledging that it was a protective act that would preserve her if he did eventually fail her. It still caused an ache within his chest, but he could understand it.

Jamie dressed quickly and after taking care of his needs, snuck out of her room like a young fool. If it wasn’t for her sense of propriety, he would have proudly emerged from her chambers for everything to see. One day, he promised himself.

He quickly dismissed the idea of seeking out Brienne in favour of giving her tie to accept what had happened between the two of them. She would not thank him for interrupting her duties either.

Almost everybody in Winterfell continued to give him a wide berth, with only a select few acknowledging his presence, making the walk back to his own chambers quiet one. He was still surprised that the inner structure of the castle was relatively unscathed from the battle. From his position with Brienne and Podrick, it has seemed as though the entire world had collapsed around them.

The Lannister in him still couldn’t quite fathom how the Stark girl had defeated the Night King. Since arriving in the north he had curbed his impulses and kept his mouth shut, observing the Starks and those who surrounded them. Arya was much changed, they all were, which was only to be expected given the horrific circumstances each one had survived.

Having to face them day after day, knowing that he had played a role in their family’s destruction, had started to weigh heavily. They had been innocent. The boy had been innocent when Jamie had pushed him from the tower without a second thought.

His part in aiding Brienne fulfil her oath to Catelyn Stark did nothing to make up for his actions.

When he entered his quarters, he found Tyrion occupying a chair by the hearth, gazing into the flames with an intensity that unsettled him.

A wry smile played across his face when he noticed Jamie’s presence, his intelligent eyes digesting every detail. “I thought you would look more pleased with yourself this morning, brother.”

“Tyrion.” Jamie laced the word with warning. He couldn’t work out his brother’s game where Brienne was concerned. One moment he actively encouraged Jamie to pursue her and the next, he chastised him.

“I like her,” Tyrion stated, sliding off the chair. “And I’m not the only one which is why I’m going to tell you to tread carefully. Ser Brienne is much admired by the Starks and their hatred of you will only increase if you fuck this up.”

“I’m not going to fuck it up.” Jamie cried, insulted. First Brienne and now his brother. The lack of faith from those he loved the most was beginning to sting.

Tyrion barked out a humourless laugh. “I know you better than anyone. I know your history with our sister better than anyone.”

Jamie cut him off. “Cersei has nothing to do with this.”

“Of course she does, you fool. You left King’s Landing to keep your word, you did not leave her. Matters between you are unresolved.”

Jamie had to laugh at that. “They were resolved the moment she ordered the Mountain to cut me down.”

“And yet you live.” Tyrion said, pouring himself some wine. “If she wanted you dead, you would be dead. What will you do when the Queen journeys south to take the throne?”

Words would not form on his lips. He had no response because he had forbidden himself to think about the impending war for the Iron Throne. He couldn’t deny Tyrion’s logic either, if his sister had truly wanted him dead, he would be.

And where did that leave him? Could he truly abandon Cersei when she needed him the most? She had been fighting for the throne in one way or another all her life. She finally had it, but at what cost? There was nothing left of the woman he had once loved. She had twisted herself into something unrecognisable.

“What will you do, Jamie? You have decisions to make. The Queen allowed you to fight at Winterfell because there was very little chance that you would survive the dead. Your path ahead was difficult enough without fucking the Maid of Tarth.”

“Don’t reduce it to that.” Jamie cautioned, anger tightening his fist. “I care for her.”

‘Care’ was too tame a description for what he felt. He fucking _loved_ her.

Tyrion’s eyes narrowed. “Do you?”

“Yes. Why is that so hard to believe? You don’t know me as well as you think you do. We’ve been apart more than we have together for the last few years. I’m not the same man I once was.”

“I’m glad, you were an unbearable shit the last time we were both at Winterfell.” A sigh escaped his brother’s small body. “You need to use your brain for once if your life. You may have stood with the north against the dead, but you are still very much an enemy in their eyes. They are all expecting you to flee back into Cersei’s arms the moment their backs are turned.”

Jamie wanted to kick the chair into the flames or throw Tyrion across the room. “I won’t! She is not what I want anymore.”

“I want to believe you, but I have spent my entire life watching you do her bidding. You were a puppet for our father and for her.”

Once he would have denied the accusation. Now he recognised the truth. “You’re right, I was. But my loyalty does not lie with Cersei any longer, it lies solely with Brienne. I’m only interested in proving that to her. Everyone else can fuck themselves.”

Tyrion close his eyes briefly and set his cup down. “Please do not repeat those words to anyone else. If you’re are serious about Brienne, you need to be clever. There will be a place for her in the world once Daenerys takes the throne, the same cannot be said of you at the moment.”

“I’m not a complete idiot, brother.” Though he wasn’t entirely sure that was true. To survive the coming months he would have to rein in his temper and consider his actions. “Thank you, I know you’re only trying to save me from myself.”

“I had hoped that you would have learnt by now.” Tyrion said with a small smile. “Think about what I’ve said. Whatever happens in the upcoming war, I fear that we are all at more risk than we believe.”

Jamie nodded, “When will her army move south?”

“Soon. She is eager to strike quickly. Sansa will take charge of Winterfell when we go so I would say it is safe to assume that Brienne will remain here too.”

Relief swept through his body. The thought of Brienne anywhere close to Cersei was terrifying. She had always hated his interest in the other woman. Whilst he was sure that Brienne would prevail against any male opponent, she was not accustomed to the type of deadly games that Cersei played.

In Winterfell, Brienne would be safe. He wouldn’t be worried about her charging into a dangerous situation ready to give her life for the first honourable person she met. That trait was admirable, but he worried that it would also get her killed.

“So,” Tyrion asked, “What will you do?”


	3. Taking a Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne has reservations about her relationship with Jamie; it will be up to him to convince her that he is serious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Everyone!
> 
> Thank you for reading and commenting, As you can probably tell I'm awful at summaries! Hope you enjoy this next chapter.

Brienne made her way through the halls of Winterfell, the knotting of her stomach reminding her to seek out some food. She was famished and the war meeting had burned through what little energy she had possessed to begin with.

Throughout the meeting she had remained quiet, proudly watching as Lady Sana went head to head with their new Queen. Many thought that Sana had lost herself in the cold protective shield she had cloaked around her shoulders following the devastation that she had been through, but Brienne saw the young woman had a true heart.

Her loyalty was to her family and the North. She would fight for them until her last breath and for that, she would always have Brienne’s respect and admiration.

In her opinion the Stark girls were correct to be wary of Daenerys. She was ruthless, entitled and hardened by past experiences. Brienne could not see many differences between her the previous rulers of Westeros.

Of course all of the realm should be thankful for her resolve to join Jon Snow in the fight against the dead. Without her army, they would all be dead. But there was something unsettling about the young queen that Brienne could not quite place her finger on.

Aside from the tension between the Starks and Daenerys, the meeting had gone as expected. Within a week, the majority of their forces would be leaving for King’s Landing. Sansa and Arya would remain at Winterfell, and Brienne would stay by their side.

_Ser Jamie has chosen to remain at here, as a guest of the Lady of Winterfell._

Brienne’s stoic composure had almost cracked when Tyrion had spoken those words. Jamie had chosen to stay. She wondered when he had made the decision – had it been before or after he had shared her bed? It was terrifying to think that he may have chosen to stay for her.

She had no experience dealing with men in that way. They had always been present in her world because of the life she had chosen. She had learnt to ignore their remarks about her appearance as an act of self-preservation because however much she wished the hurtful worlds so effortlessly thrown her way did not cut into her heart, they did.

Without the ale she was finding it difficult to believe that Jamie could truly desire her. He respected her skill with a sword, admired her strength of character. They shared a connection forged by joint experiences that had altered both of their lives. But after all this time, was she just supposed to accept that he wanted her?

Tired of her troubling thoughts, Brienne headed towards the dining hall. Due to the late hour, there were few people gathered in the space. She accepted a bowl of stew handed to her by a serving girl and decided to sit alone, happy for her mind to be filled with chatter from those surrounding her.

For a few moments she wanted to forget about Jamie Lannister, the upcoming war and her own insecurities. A smile crept onto her face when she listened in on a conversation between two men about Arya Stark and their disbelief at her being the one to defeat the Night King.

Brienne wasn’t all that surprised. Training with Arya had been illuminating; she had seen with her own eyes how skilled the girl was with a number of weapons. Her fighting style was different from anything Brienne had ever seen. Once things had settled down, she was planning to ask Arya to teach her a few tricks that could be useful in upcoming fights.

Hunger sated, she strolled up to her room, nodding to a few faces she recognised on the way. If she could forget about the bitterly cold environment, she found the north to be good place, filled with many good people, loyal to the Starks. It was such a contrast to the time she had spent at King’s Landing where it was impossible to simply be. There was always a scheme, always a plot. She found those kinds of games exhausting.

Closing the door behind her, Brienne began to softly stretch her muscles. Her body ached, from the battle and from the night’s activities. She was also sore in other places. Heat infused her skin when her eyes found the bed.

Putting her confusion regarding the future of their relationship to one side, she could not regret laying with him. He was the only man she would have given her virginity to. The only one who understood the woman inside the outer shell she had no control over.

It seemed that it was impossible to keep him out of her thoughts for more than a few moments at a time these days.

Adding wood onto the fire, she started when her close clicked open.

Jamie. The golden lion himself.

Did the frequency of her thoughts about the man conjure him?

He was so unlike the gallant knights she had aspired to be when she was a little girl. He had been broken, his reputation tarnished for all of time. He made awful decisions that cost innocent people dearly. He purposely perpetuated the stained image of himself, refusing to divulge the one secret that could redeem him in so many eyes.

And yet, she was inexplicably drawn to him. He was a mass of contradictions that didn’t make any sense to her whilst simultaneously making perfect sense.

His green eyes danced when they met hers. “It’s hot in here.”

Amused, Brienne returned his smile. “I’m afraid that will only work once.” She rose from her position in front of the fire. Nerves skipped along her skin as she took in his large frame. “How was your day?”

He took a seat by the fire, a glint of enjoyment in his eye. “Fine. How was yours?”

Brienne fought the urge to smooth down her clothing under his observation. “Good. I attended the war meeting; the armies will soon leave Winterfell.”

“And you’re to remain here with the Starks?”

She nodded. “Yes,” Pausing, she studied him carefully when she spoke next. “Tyrion said you’re also staying here.”

“With you.” He said succinctly, laughing as her eyes widened. “I told you I’m not letting you go.”

She frowned as he approached her, it was difficult to think with his appealing scent enveloping her. “I would understand if you felt you had to go back to King’s Landing. The dead are no longer a threat.”

His hand intertwined with hers, an intimate gesture that she had no experience with. “Is that what you want?”

He waited patiently whilst she attempted to string together some kind of answer that would adequately convey the confusion she felt. “I don’t want you to stay and come to regret it.”

“I’m aware that I have not given you much reason to believe that I will give my word, but please give me a chance. That is all I’m asking for.”

Brienne broke contact with him, turning on her heel. “Jamie, that is _a lot_ to ask.”

All of her life she had taken risks, but they had been hers to take alone. If she failed, she would only have herself to blame. There was a comfort it that she had never really considered before. If she took a risk on Jamie and he left her, she knew the pain would be far greater than any she had ever experienced before.

“Is it?” His voice brought her back into the present.

“Yes!” Shocked by the conviction in her voice, she took a deep breath, battling to stay calm. “You speak as though this is simple when it is anything but simple. Cersei is with child, you told me that yourself not a week ago.”

Jamie swung her around, his expression no longer amused. “For all I know the child is not mine. She is a vindictive bitch who has manipulated me at every turn.”

“And yet you continued to run back to her. Why is this time any different?” It was a plea for an answer that she could accept.

“Because,” His hand caressed her cheek, “I know you feel for me the same as I do for you. You have given me hope that I can begin again with an honourable woman who will accept me for everything that I am and everything that I am not.”

His words tore her reservations to shreds, the honestly in them compelling her to do what he asked.

He continued, “When I arrived in Winterfell, it was you who convinced them not to kill me. Were you just trying to save my life, or did you mean the words you spoke?”

“I meant them.” She said softly.

Brienne couldn’t look away from the powerful gaze of his jade eyes. “Give me a chance.”

Could she do this? Could she leave herself to the mercy of his desires and motivations?

Gods help her, she could. “I will give you a chance.”

A relieved breath rushed out of his body as his arms came around her in a crushing embrace. She clung to him tightly, needing the comfort it gave her. They stayed locked in each other’s arms for a long time.

It was she who initiated the kiss, she who began to undress him, she who pushed him to the bed with fumbling movements filled with urgency and desire. Jamie responded in kind, ridding her of her own clothes and ensuring that her body was prepared to take his.

Every breath, every meeting of hips, every gasp was a promise from one to the other. A swearing of oaths to protect, love and cherish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Brienne is convinced by Jamie to give him a chance, but I can assure you that this is not the end. I have a loose plan in mind of where to take this and will probably include some elements from the show.


	4. Upheaval

The next week passed quickly. Preparations were hastily made and by week’s end, the combined forces of the North and Daenerys Targaryen had left Winterfell to take the war to Cersei’s door. Brienne spent most of her time aiding Lady Sansa where possible as the departing army had the whole of Winterfell in upheaval.

Many were still recovering from wounds obtained in the battle against the dead and repairs had to be made to much of the outer buildings. Everyone was working tirelessly to ensure that there was enough food to be passed around and each person had somewhere to lay their head at night. Though the week had sped by, the days had been long and arduous.

The atmosphere did lighten considerably when the Dragon Queen departed. Brienne had witnessed many strained conversations between the Starks and the Targaryen, often coming away feeling as though she was missing a vital piece of information.

A clash of blades, followed by a curse, drew her attention to the men in front of her. Podrick and Jamie had been sparring for the past hour, the pair growing more ruthless by the second.

She watched in exasperation as Podrick left himself wide open to an attack from Jamie. “Podrick, I know I’ve taught you better than that.”

Jamie let out a low chuckle, eyes calculating. “Getting scolded by your mother there, Pod?” Taking advantage of Podrick’s momentary outrage, Jamie landed a clever blow that had her squire’s practice sword flying of his grip.

“Oh for god’s sake.” She muttered, closing the distance between herself and the two men, picking up Podrick’s sword as she strode by. “Move, Podrick.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Brienne rolled her eyes at the sulking tone, knowing he would get over it quickly. She forgot about his presence entirely when her eyes found Jamie’s sparkling back at her. The triumphant glint told her he had the outcome he wanted. Well, she may have walked right into his trap, but he would have to improve upon the poor skills he had just demonstrated for the last hour if he wanted to best her.

They had not sparred in a long time, certainly not whilst he had been at Winterfell. There hadn’t been time whilst preparing for the dead and since their victory, they had been too busy helping in the efforts to rebuild. Or he had persuaded her to spend their time together elsewhere.

Not that it had taken much convincing. She found that the more time they spent alone, the deeper under his spell she fell. It felt like a privilege to witness his quiet moments, to be trusted with his true self. Everyone else saw the Kingslayer. He had allowed her to peel back the prickly outer layers to find the man beneath.

Brienne had tried to conceal their relationship, attempting to detach herself from him during the days but even she had to admit it was the worst kept secret in the castle. Enough people now knew for it to be common knowledge. She thought she would be bothered by it, but their hushed whispers were a small price to pay for the bliss she found in Jamie’s arms.

It helped that most were too afraid of her reaction to say anything directly to her face. Jamie also had a reputation that was feared by most. So as much as she had never wanted to be the topic of gossip in any setting, it was bearable.

“Are you daydreaming about me, wench?” The red stain on her cheeks gave him the answer. “You are.” He said with something close to wonderment. “I never thought I would live to see the day Brienne of Tarth would be caught thinking about my coc…”

To silence his tongue, she let out a loud battle cry and charged at him. His grin widened before manoeuvring out the way of her obvious attack.

“Didn’t you tell Podrick to _not_ project his movements?”

Brienne let out a calming breath, refusing to allow his maddening taunts to break for concentration any further. Schooling her features, she took a step back daring him to advance on her.

Jamie couldn’t resist a challenge anymore than she could.

With a speed that was difficult to track, Jamie arched his blade, intending to land a blow to her chest. She managed – barely – to counter the attack in a flurry of movement that pushed him back a few paces.

After that she told herself not to underestimate him. Sometime during their separation he had become an excellent swordsman again, his experience a force of it’s own. The foundation of her own fighting style was built on strength and perseverance whilst his was an undeniable work of art.

He had obviously been taking it easy on poor Podrick, waiting for her to take the squire’s place to unleash the full extents of his renewed skill. The fight was long, neither of them willing to make a mistake that would cause defeat.

By the time she forced Jamie to yield they were both sweating like pigs, with her sat across his torso, weapon at his throat. His body was heaving with exertion beneath her; miraculous the stupid grin was still on his face.

“You lost.” She had to point out, annoyed by his unusually cheery disposition. She did not remember him taking a loss so well in the past.

“I’m aware. I’m just enjoying the position; it gives me ideas for later.”

Her body shivered in response to the image he conjured. He always succeeded in heating her blood with a single glance or amusing inuendo. Aware that they were not alone in the practice yard, she clambered off his body, too tempted to remain in such close proximity.

“You’ve improved with your left hand.” She commented in an effort to cool her desires. She offered her hand to help him up. Taking it, he rose and dusted off his clothes.

“It was fucking hard work.”

“The man I met in Catelyn’s cell wouldn’t have known the meaning of hard work.” She said with a smile, remembered the arrogance that dripped from him all those years ago. “I’m proud of you.”

Jamie captured her hand in his, smoothly moving into her space. “You know, I believe that is the first time anyone has said those words to me.”

Lost in his captivating gaze, Brienne allowed herself to be pulled against him. He took her mouth with a gentleness that continued to surprise her. Jamie was so full of life, passionate. It overwhelmed her when he displayed such tenderness.

An overdramatic cough from Podrick interrupted their tender moment. Stepping back, Brienne realised they had drawn quite a crowd. Gods, the man made her lose her head. If people had not been aware of their relationship before, they most definitely were now.

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

 

A stream of bright light woke Jamie from a deep sleep.

Cracking open his eyelids, he surveyed the bed, pleased to find Brienne was still entangled with him. Though he knew she loved her sleep, recently she had been rising early to lend her help wherever she could.

Content to just lay there with her sleeping in his arms, he lightly stroked her mop of yellow hair. It had grown a little longer, he noted. With everything that happened over the last month, he supposed cutting it was the last thing on her mind.

A soft sigh escaped her lips, blowing onto his chest. Had he ever experienced such happiness? Was that what this feeling was? It had always eluded him before. He had never been satisfied with what he had, always wanting more. Always seeking that final piece that would complete the man.

For most of his life, he believed that the answer lay with Cersei. If they could just be together, all would be well. Everything they had been through would be worth it. Those months in King’s Landing with her should have been heaven. He should have felt exactly like _this_.

But she had felt like a weight around his neck. He had laid awake at night fearful of the next scheme she would concoct or the next criticism she would fling his way. It had been hell, and the moment he’d seen Brienne stroll into the Dragon Pit, he had recognised it.

Brienne was strong without having to cut others down. Proud without allowing it to inflate her ego. Beautiful when the world told her she was ugly. Honourable when surrounding by filth. She had opened his eyes to happiness.

Willpower crumbling, he adjusted their positions so that they were both lying on their sides, facing each other. He pressed a kiss to her lips as her eyes fluttered open, smiling against her mouth when she groaned at him.

“You’re waking me up.”

Hand traveling over her waist, he nipped at her lower lip. “I couldn’t help myself. Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you.”

Her blue eyes shone back at him. “And how are you going to do that?”

Loving the way she played with him, Jamie pushed her flat onto the bed, rising above her and settling himself between her legs. He couldn’t wait to have his mouth on her pale skin. Without clothing, her body fascinated him all long limbs and muscle.

Those who thought she possessed no feminine curves were wrong. Her hips flared at the waist

He traced the path, noting the way her nipples pebbled in response.

Jamie took a beaded bud into his mouth, suckling hard the way she liked. He had learned any things she like over the last week and would devote the rest of his life to uncovering more. She deserved nothing but pleasure.

“Jamie.” She moaned, arching against his touch.

Cock aching for relief, he cupped her mound, checking to make certain that she was prepared. Satisfied that she could take him, Jamie wasted no time in sliding his cock into the wet heat of her body. She gasped, as she always did when he entered her. A sound he would never tiring of hearing.

He moved languidly, content to simply feel her inners muscles work around him. She matched his slow pace, sinking her fingertips into his upper arms, rapture shimmering across her features. The unguarded expression claimed another piece of his heart; he was honoured that she had began to trust him enough to show her vulnerability.

They were opposites in so many ways, yet her passion matched his own. Everyday she taught him how to be her equal. To do better. To be better. And for her, he would succeed.

Sensing she was close to release, he increased his thrusts, erupting in pleasure when she reached her own peak and milked his cock.

Sated, Jamie rolled onto his back, taking her lax body with him so that she lay partially over his. It was fast becoming his favourite position, offering a type of comfort he had never experienced.

“Do you forgive me for waking you?”

She buried her head deeper into his chest when she replied. “Hmmm, I think so. It certainly is an invigorating way to begin the day. If I had known sooner…”

He cut her off. “Do not finish that sentence. Thinking about you with another man will drive me to madness.”

She laughed in disbelief. “No other man wants me.”

“They’re all foolish little fuckers.” And he’d been one of them for so long. “I think you’re purposely overlooking your wilding admirer.”

“Tormund? He was bed anything. It isn’t me he likes.”

Jamie was not so certain about that. The reverent way the wildling had looked at Brienne had unnerved him because he had seen the other man recognised her worth. He had been lucky that the wildling’s overzealous nature had instantly repelled Brienne’s much calmer one.

“I’ll be eternally grateful that you waited for me.” Truer words had never been spoken. Now that he’d had her, had experience the last week with her, he couldn’t imagine the alternative.

A urgent rapping on their door caused Brienne to flinch. They shared a brief look of concern before she leapt from the bed and shot her arms through a nearby robe. Jamie deliberated getting out of bed, but decided against it. If someone wanted to interrupt them at the break of dawn, they could damn well live with the sight of his bare chest. He did, however, ensure that the sheet was placed over his lap.

Brienne opened the door, unable to cover her surprise at finding Sansa Stark on the other side, visibly distressed. Jamie’s back straightened, rethinking his hasty decision to remain in bed. Thankfully, she barely spared him a glance as she swept into the room.

Addressing Brienne, she began, “I apologise for intruding at this hour, but I’ve just been informed that Arya left Winterfell in the night. I believe she’s gone to King’s Landing.”

“Why would she do that?” Brienne asked.

Sansa hesitated before giving her reply, flicking her gaze to Jamie. “She has a list of those she wants dead. Cersei is the only name left.”

Blood pounded through his ears, the words echoing inside his mind. He’d succeeded in banishing Cersei from his thoughts almost entirely. The unexpected mention of her had completely thrown him off guard.

Brienne recovered first, her tone noticeably tight. “I take it Arya waiting until after your brother left so she wouldn’t have to deal with his resistance.”

“I believe so. I should have expected her to do something like this, but I’ve had much to do.” Brienne, you’ve already done so much for my family, but I have to ask this of you. Will you go and find her? Protect her?”

“No.” Jamie refused without giving Brienne the opportunity to accept. He was unwilling to standby whilst she took another pledge that could endanger her life.

Brienne three daggers at him. “Lady Sansa did not ask for your opinion on the matter.”

“Well, she’s going to get it.” Jamie retorted, his voice blazing with anger. “Arya is old enough to make her own decisions. She will not thank you for your interference.”

“She won’t.” Sansa agreed, “But I won’t let any more members of my family die needlessly. The Dragon Queen will take care of your sister.”

“Then what does it matter if Arya goes to King’s Landing?”

Sansa sighed, her cold mask slipping away, giving him a glimpse of the young woman who had already survived so much. “I don’t want her near Daenerys Targaryen.”

“Why?” Brienne questioned, showing some sense for the first time Sansa had appeared.

Closing her eyes, Sansa stood motionless. “I’ve broken a promise to my brother and set events in motion that cannot be undone.”

“For god’s sake, spit it out.” His tone earned him a sharp glance from Brienne.

“Jon is the rightful heir to the Iron Throne.”

Utterly perplexed, Jamie could only blurt out a muted, “What?”

He and Brienne listened as Sansa unravelled the history of his birth and lineage, explaining that she had divulged the secret to Tyrion in the hopes that he would play a part in crowning Jon Snow the ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.

The legitimate son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. Aegon Targaryen.

“He doesn’t want it.” She finished, wringing her hands. “But I know that he’ll be a just king. The Dragon Queen is a step away from losing control. Do you understand now?”

She was right to be concerned for her sister. When Daenerys learned that the secret was out, she would be faced with a choice and Jamie wasn’t convinced that it would be in the favour of the Starks.

“My lady, I will find her.” Brienne promised, breaking the silence.

“Brienne.” Jamie warned.

Her back straightened in defiance. “I’ll leave at once. Podrick can remain here with you, my lady.”

Fury burned through his veins at her instant dismissal of him. Had he just imagined they were in a relationship? His opinion should be a factor in her decision, shouldn't it? Fuming, he barely noticed Sansa moving towards the door, sending words of thanks in Brienne’s direction.

“Ser Jamie, you are welcome to remain here as a guest if you wish.”

Barely able to stop himself from unleashing a barrage of insults at her, he pressed his mouth into a thin line as she exited the room. Brienne whirled around with a stormy expression. Jamie braced himself for the long argument ahead.


	5. The Departure

 

Brienne had spent the last hour calmly packing her belongings, blatantly ignoring Jamie’s attempted to persuade her from carrying out Lady Sansa’s task. The moment she engaged with him she knew all hell would break loose. Ignoring him seemed like the most logical option.

It was proving impossible though. He followed her, talking incessantly, compounding all of the doubts that were spinning around in her own mind. Shoving the last of her clothing into her bag, Brienne turned and almost crashed into Jamie.

“Will you get out of my way?” She finally snapped, barging passed his shoulder in an explosion of movement.

“Not until you have a conversation with me.” He replied, impatience coating his tone, his hand grabbing her arm in a firm grip.. “Brienne, look at me.”

Stubbornness had her hesitating before complying with his command. She wanted to flinch away from the savagery of his features, the dark look a reminder of the ruthless man he could be.

“Nothing you say is going to change my mind. I care about those girls; I won’t see any harm come to them.”

He looked as though he wanted to throttle her. “Even at the cost of your own life? King’s Landing is a treacherous place at the best of times. It is about to go down in ashes one way or another and you want to talk into that? What if the Dragon Queen loses? Cersei will crucify you if any her men spot you.”

Jaw tightening at the mention of her, she simply said, “I gave Sansa my word.”

In a world full of broken promises, she was unwilling to become just another disgraced knight. Her word was her honour.

Jamie flew away from her, movements filled with frustration, his golden hand reflecting the light. “Why are you so fucking hellbent on running straight into danger?”

“I’m not.” She insisted, trying to find the words to make him understand. “You have always known my position on this. It is not about my own life, but a higher purpose. What I believe is right. I serve those who I think are worthy of following. I won’t turn tail the moment it becomes difficult.”

“I’ve had my shared of difficult choices.” He reminded her, casting her mind back to their conversation in the baths at Harrenhal. “Did it occur to you that could be with child?”

The unexpected question threw her out of balance. They hadn’t discussed the possibility; however, she had taken matters into her own hands. “It’s highly unlikely, I went to the maester for herbs to prevent pregnancy.” Noting his disbelief, she continued. “I could hardly leave it to chance.”

“You should have discussed that with me.”

All she could do was frown at him. “Why? We both know that we cannot bring a child into this relationship, not yet.”

He bit off a curse. “Does my opinion count for nothing to you?”

“Yes, it does.” She was used to making decision on her own, for herself, without taking others into account. She couldn’t blame him for being angry with her, she supposed that her decisions did affect his life now.

Brienne watched the anger deflating from his body. “These kinds of decisions need to be made together. I came so close to losing you a mere week ago, and now you’re telling me that you want to go to the most dangerous place in Westeros. I need a moment to swallow that.”

She would grant him that, beginning to understand that she had acted with haste. If Jamie made a potentially life-altering decision, she would want to be a part of it. She had been alone so for long that she really had no need of anyone else’s opinion before him.

It shocked her a little to realise that her death would cause him devastation. She had never had someone so invested in her life. That is no one outside of her immediate family.

Jamie’s eyes searched hers for a moment, before he uttered his next words. Words that would change everything. “I’m coming with you.”

“No.” The response was automatic, fear taking hold of her throat. “You left. You chose to stay here.”

“I chose to stay with.” He corrected, a small smile playing on his face. “I would follow you anywhere.”

“No.”

“Yes.” He said with force.

She fought the childish urge to continue to pointless back and forth with him. If the destination was anywhere else in the world, she would welcome his company. But King’s Landing was the place that had corrupted him as a young man. The place he and his sister had committed treason time and time again.

It was impossible to predict what Cersei would do if she learned of his return. There were too many uncertainties for Brienne to feel anything but terrified by the prospect of him joining her.

Taking her silence for victory, Jamie wrapped his arms around her waist. “It will be fun. Hopefully I won’t lose a hand this time.”

She slipped from his grip, annoyed by the whole situation. “It’s not a joke, Jamie. I would prefer it if you stay.”

“You made your choice and I made mine. We’ll see it through together.”

There was no argument she could give without becoming a hypocrite. He had seen to that. She used the only hand she had left. “And your sister?” They both understood what she meant, though she wished they could avoid having the discussion altogether.

The question had to be asked, Brienne had to know the thoughts circling around in his head. The woman had been everything to him up until very recently. Was she really expected to believe that Jamie would leave Cersei to her own fate?

“That is where you’re going to have to trust me. Nothing I say or do will convince you of my intentions.” He said, expression troubled.

“I trust your word on everything but this. Once you get into her orbit, I’ve watched you become unrecognisable.” It was a hard truth to throw at him, knowing that he was trying to start his life again and leave the past where it belonged.

Diverting his eyes from her, he expelled a short breath. His gaze once again settled on hers. “I won’t betray you.”

Emotion clogged in her chest, squeezing it tightly. Oh, how much she wanted to believe him. She closed her eyes and told herself that this was it; this was the moment she truly had to decide whether she could commit herself to him, being aware of all the many ways he could shatter her heart into a thousand pieces.

Without a word, she threw herself at him, leaning her weight against his, arms thrown around his neck. She was not a coward. Inexperienced in the matters of love, but she was no coward. She would place her trust in him.

The alternative was simply not an option.

 

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

 

By the time they had departed, it was just after noon. Clouds hung low in the sky, a blanket of white that threatened snow. Not ideal travelling weather, but Jamie wasn’t too concerned. They were both experienced riders, capable of navigating the terrain in bad weather.

Podrick had been unimpressed to be left behind, only brightening when Brienne stated that his objective was to keep Sansa save because she trusted that he would see the job done. The boy have loved that. Jamie could empathise; having Brienne’s trust was a great honour.

Though he understood her reluctance to believe him regarding Cersei, her lack of faith in him felt like a knife to the gut.

To make matters worse, he was petrified that her doubts had merit. Distancing himself from Cersei had given him a new perspective. Looking back, he hated what he’d become in order to protect their poisonous relationship. But what happened the moment the Red Keep was in sight? How would he react if one of his sister’s enemies succeeded in killing her?

Would Brienne despise him for mourning her if she died?

The onslaught of questions was a constant ache on his consciousness. As much as he was resolved to the new path he had chosen for himself, he feared his impetuous nature. Many thought he was absent of normal emotions, but if anything he felt too deeply, often being led by the strongest emotion of any given moment.

Age had watered his impulsivity down with hard lessons teaching him well.

_This_ was exactly why he needed Brienne’s faith. She was the only one who could convince him to believe that change was possible.

No matter how his thoughts plagued him there was only one truth that allowed him to keep his sanity. He would not betray Brienne. His earlier words had been a promise to the woman he loved. They were the strength he needed to follow her out of the safety of Winterfell.

The one saving grace of the entire journey would be spending some time alone with Brienne. They’d hardly been able to take a moment for themselves in the wake of the battle and whilst he found it surprisingly fulfilling to lend his help, he was still selfish enough to want her to himself for a while.

He glanced at her, inwardly smiling at the stiff way she sat astride her strong horse. He judged that he still wasn’t quite forgiven for the way events had unfolded earlier. Their argument may have ended in an embrace, but there were still many issues yet to be resolved. She had also explained that if he ever spoke for her again, she would find a creative way to punish him. The implication that it would be something do to with his cock, was not missed.

That was fine; he could wait a few more hours. They had long weeks ahead of them together before they reached King’s Landing. Jamie highly doubted they would find Arya on the road. He suspected she had the necessary skills to keep herself hidden if that is what she wanted.

He just hoped for Brienne’s sake they would be able to find her when the time came.


	6. On the Road

Four days into their journey, all was quiet. Brienne had to make a conscious effort to stay alert; a difficult task when Jamie had been entertaining her with the more light-hearted stories from his childhood. Most were centred around Tyrion which was not surprising as she assumed his was the source of affection that came with no strings attached.

She enjoyed hearing about their innocent shenanigans, glad that he had some good memories of his family. She remembered little about her own brother being so young when he died in the accident. She thought she would have liked to spend her childhood running around with a sibling in tow.

If she had children, she would want more than one.

Gods, where had that thought come from?

Only hours earlier she had completely disregarding the idea of children, at least for the time being. She had been right to take precautions; however, she was intrigued by the idea of having Jamie’s children. He would be a good father if given the chance to do it properly, and she would be a good mother.

Not in the traditional sense, she conceded. She would do what her father had done for her and give her children the option of becoming whatever they wanted to be. As Jamie had knighted her, she could count of the support of her husband in that regard.

Husband.

It was too soon to be thinking of him as her husband. A week-long liaison did not guarantee a marriage. But…if she were to marry any man, he would be her choice. She shouldn’t be thinking of it until their quest was complete and Cersei had been dealt with one way or another.

The sound of voices ahead caused her to involuntarily stiffen. Sharing a look with Jamie, they continued in the direction of the voices. Brienne prayed that Jamie would keep his mouth shut and allow her to do the talking as they had agreed before setting out. He was self-aware enough to know that he had a tendency to rub people up the wrong way.

Two mounted figures came into view on the dusted path ahead. One was noticeably larger than the other from a distance. Once they got closer, it became obvious that the men shared a strong familial resemblance. The pair had the same dull brown hair, cropped close to the skull. The larger man had a scar dissecting his upper lip, but aside from that details they appeared much the same. Long narrow noses with thin lips.

The smiles they sported sent a shiver down Brienne’s spine. On the surface they were friendly enough, but instinct and experience told her that these were not good men. She searched for a house sigil on their heavy clothing or any other distinguishing feature that would reveal their identity. There was nothing.

She concluded that they were mercenaries, swords for hire. If Jamie’s assessing gaze was anything to go by, he had reached the same conclusion. It wasn’t uncommon to come across sellswords whilst travelling, but in her experience, it never ended well.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she caught Jamie cover his golden hand with his cloak. Unfortunately, the subtle movement was also noted by the larger man.

Brienne gave them a polite nod as the men passed. Evidently in command of their duo, the larger man returned her gesture. Tension hummed through her body, her right-hand itching to reach for Oathkeeper.

She would fight to defend Jamie with her last breath.

The attack that she half-expected to come didn’t happen. The men simply moved along in an anti-climatic fashion. “Shit.” Jamie muttered when they rounded the corner. “It’s likely they were looking for me.”

Brienne threw a quick look over her shoulder. “They were armed, too well fed to be from around here where food is in short supply. I was hoping for a bath, but I think we should avoid the inn’s tonight.”

He chuckled, relieving some of the tension from the last moments. “You grew too accustomed to luxury at Winterfell. The Lady Brienne from the days of old would have never admitted to longing for a bath before her duty was done.”

“I would never have admitted it to _you_ since you were my prisoner. I don’t enjoy smelling like a pig.”

“Pigs can be quite cleanly.” He tried to get a rise out of her. When she didn’t bite, he continued. “Don’t worry, if we find a stream to camp by, I will give you a bath and pay very special attention to all my favourite parts of your body.”

She was far too intrigued with the idea than was sensible given their present circumstances. “We need to get as far away from here as possible. Stop distracting me.”

“Fine, wench.” He huffed with a long-suffering sigh. “But we will be revisiting the conversation tonight.”

An unexpected grin transformed her lips. “I should hope so.”

With that she urged her horse into a gallop and left Jamie behind in the dust, his expression beaming with amusement.

 

Night had settled across the landscape when they finally stopped. Jamie had led them away from the main track hours ago and had been weaving them deeper into the forest for another two. Brienne followed, appreciating the way he controlled his horse with ease, impressed how far he had come since losing his hand.

Most men in his position would have been resigned to a quieter life, but Jamie had refused to allow his loss to define him. In some ways, it had even been the making of him. His rebound demonstrated a pool of strength she was unsure that she could match.

Jamie stacked a pile of kindling into the small clearing they had stumbled across whilst she took care of the horses; a routine they had established over the last few nights. It was strangely domesticated despite the wilderness surrounding them.

They ate their evening meal in comfortable silence, content to listen to the sounds of nature flowing around them. The heat of the fire was a soothing warmth against her cheeks.

Finished with his food, Jamie shuffled closer. “I found a stream when I was searching for firewood.”

She smiled at that. “It’s too cold.”

He rested his hand on her thigh, the heat of it permeating through her clothing. “I hate the fucking North. We’ll have to save that particular fantasy for another time when you won’t catch your death.”

“Do you promise?” Now that he had put the idea into her mind, she was eager for it to happen.

He rose up onto his knees, caressing her cheek. “Brienne of Tarth, I swear to you, as soon as we find a source of water that will not freeze my cock off, I will strip us both down and spend hours washing your body. My hands will stroke your pretty breasts, your tight…”

Flames scolded her skin. “Jamie…” His words stirred a deep desire low in her stomach. It wasn’t fair how talented he was at making her want him with words alone.

“You asked me to promise.”

Of course, his insatiable appetite would be her fault. “We should take it in turns to keep watch tonight. Those mercenaries concerned me.”

His expression grew more serious as he settled back down beside her. “You’re right, I’ll take first watch. If they show up, I’ll kill them just for cockblocking me.”

Brienne frowned at him, unfamiliar with the term. “Cockblocking?”

“It means exactly how it sounds.” He explained with a sardonic smile.

Her shoulders shook with laughter, comprehension dawning on her, “Ahh, I understand.”

“I’m glad you find it funny. Keep up your amusement, and I will whisper filthy words into your ear until you’re begging for me to take you.”

The laughter died on her lips. “You wouldn’t.”

“Are you sure about that? I could get you all worked up only to deny you my attentions.”

She snorted, the sound as unlady-like as she could get. “Ha, do you expect me to believe that you have that much self-restraint?”

“You wound me.” He mocked, sliding his fingers through her hair. She fell into those eyes she had come to know so well. The moment unexpectedly transformed into something tender, his words delving into her soul and weaving it more closely with his. “You make me happy. _This_ makes me happy.”

“I’ve never felt like this before.” She admitted in a low voice, bringing her own hand up to trace the strong line of his jaw. “It terrifies me. I feel like I have more to lose.”

“You won’t lose anything.” He countered, lowering his mouth to hers. She let him sweep her up in a sweet storm of sensation. She craves his kisses and the all-consuming ones were the best kind. His loss of control was a thrill, a display of desire and devotion that only heighted her own.

Drawing back with gasping breath, he rested his forehead against hers. “I’m going to be led by sense for once in my life and stop before I lose my head. Come lay with me and sleep. I’ll wake you up when it’s time for your turn.”

Calming her own breathing, she followed him to their make-shift bed, allowing herself to be cocooned by his heated body. She turned her head into his chest away from the chill of the night. Sleep came easily in his arms and before she knew it the world had faded away.

The last thing she remembered was a whisper of words, almost impossible to detect.

“I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're still enjoying!
> 
> Just a quick head's up, I won't be posting for a few days as I'm going to visit friends. Will be back soon :)


	7. Respite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone is enjoying the weekend. The next chapter is up :)
> 
> Just a forewarning, the town is completely made up!

Two days had passed since they had crossed paths with the mercenaries. Nothing had happened much to Jamie’s frustration. He’d been sure that they had been searching for him and he would rather deal with them sooner than later. Diligently guarding their backs was becoming tiresome, adding another layer of fatigue. Spending hours upon hours on a horse was a toll enough.

“We’ll stop in the next town.” He called out to Brienne. If he remembered correctly, they were only a couple of miles away from Fineshade, a small dwelling he had travelled through on his way up to Winterfell.

“Are you sure that’s wise?” She asked.

“I’m fed up with skulking around the woods. We survived an army of the dead, I would like to think that we can take two men between us.”

“I could take them both on my own,” She boasted, “But I think we we’re trying to be inconspicuous.”

He shrugged. “Tell me you want to sleep on the cold ground another night and we’ll do it.”

She blew out a breath. “I don’t. An inn it is. Only for the night though, we don’t have time to delay. I suppose we can ask around about Arya too. Maybe she’s been through this way.”

Happy that she had conceded, his muscles relaxed a fraction. The thought of a spending another night in the elements was dire indeed. “You may get your bath.”

“We both need it.” Her nose wrinkled adorably.

“Let’s press on. If I’m right we could be there within the next hour or two.”

He was pleased to find that age had not addled his memory yet. They reached the small town of Fineshade with daylight to spare. Jamie had covered his golden hand in the hopes their identities would remain anonymous, though there was no hiding Brienne’s striking looks.

Arriving at the inn, Brienne instructed him to buy them both a decent meal whilst she took their belongings to their room. The brief conversation they’d shared with the innkeeper had been miserable. Jamie had referred to Brienne as his wife the other man’s head had snapped up in unmistakable disbelief.

He could only watch as she walked away with rigid shoulders.

It would make him feel a great deal better to punch the ignorant bastard in the face. He barely resisted the compulsion.

Her expression was carefully blank when she returned. Already halfway through his meal, he remained quiet. He grown to understand her moods quite well during the last few weeks. She would only talk when she was ready and if pushed, she would shut him down completely. He tried not to let in bother him.

“Any news of Arya?” She asked, swallowing a spoonful of stew.

“No, I asked around whilst waiting for the food. No one fitting her description has been in here.”

Brienne nodded. “Find her isn’t going to be easy.”

“I didn’t think it would be.” He fully expected to follow the girl all the way to King’s Landing. His own mood considerably soured at the thought. A small part of him had hoped that they would be able to avoid the city. The closer they got, the ball of dread in his gut increased.

“She’s resourceful.”

He fought the urge to roll his eyes at the admiration in Brienne’s voice. “She’s a foolish girl hellbent on revenge with no thought for anyone but herself. How long did you spend running around after her the first time? Months? The Hound almost killed you.”

She shot him an irritated look. “You can always return to Winterfell, or anywhere else for that matter. I don’t need your help.”

His own temper spiking, Jamie was no longer able to contain it. “You make that clear at every turn. What exactly do you want from me, Brienne? It seems like I can do nothing right.”

Her eyes narrowed as she slammed her spoon on the table. “Absolutely nothing.”

Frustration pounded at him. He’d had enough of her keeping him at a distance, of jumping through hoops to prove himself to her. All of the progress he made had gone up in the flames the moment a stranger had made a passing judgement on their relationship. “Really? You don’t seem to mind when I fuck you? Don’t you want that from me? Or is that all I’m good for?” Hurt blossomed across her face, causing him to instantly regret his words. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

Her chair scraped across the floor with an awful sound as she stood, effectively cutting off his apology. “I’m going for a walk. Do not follow me.”

She stormed through the crowd of patrons, earning more than a few heated looks as she pushed by without care. Unease rose as she left his sight; he’d grown so accustomed to being no more than a few feet away from her at any given time.

How had he managed to fuck that up so badly?

 

Brienne only stopped once the inn was out of sight. For a second, she gave into the wild emotion, allowing the tears to fall. She wiped them away angrily. Crying would solve nothing; it was a pointless exercise that would leave her with a headache and little else.

Ignoring the interested looks of the townspeople, she headed away from the buildings, needed a few moments alone. Truly alone. Without Jamie, without prying eyes. Without any pressures.

She didn’t understand what had just happened. No, that wasn’t true. She knew exactly what had happened.

They’d been enjoying each other’s company until they had set foot in the town. Until she had felt dozens of eyes watching them, judging. In Winterfell, she’d been comfortable enough that she hadn’t minded people knowing about her relationship with Jamie.

But this wasn’t Winterfell. She wasn’t respected here. She was just an ugly woman with a handsome man; a picture that didn’t make any sense to them. For a moment, she almost convinced herself that she was imagining things and then the innkeeper had confirmed her suspicions.

Jamie couldn’t understand. She assumed that was why he had begun to bait her into an argument. It was difficult to blame him for getting fed up with her; it wasn’t his fault what other’s thought of them as a couple. He did everything to assure her of his intentions and yet, the insecurities were still there. A wall between them that was proving difficult to crumble.

She scowled at image, hating how her own feelings were sabotaging her happiness. And what she could do about it? They were rooted deep within the past, watered by years of experience. Protecting herself had become second nature and now she had no idea how to destroy the internal mechanisms that had kept her safe for so long.

Laughter pulled her attention away from her thoughts and onto a young couple that were locked in a sweet embrace against a trunk of a thick tree. They were oblivious to anything but each other, stealing secret kisses.

Jamie had captured her against a tree like that only a few days ago. They had stopped for a short break to stretch their legs. She hadn’t heard him come up behind her until he was spinning her around his arms, fastening his mouths on hers with his own brand of carefree passion.

Her fingertips came up to her lips as she recalled the texture of his lips against hers. The way his rigid cock had strained against the soft fabric of his clothing, seeking her heat.

She loved those moments. She loved him. The simplicity of that statement was the reason why she would succeed in overcoming her own self-doubt.

Mood elevated, she decided to carry on with her walk. After days of riding, her legs longed for substantial exercise. Scanning the landscape, she veered left, guessing that if she continued in a loop, she would eventually return to town.

By the time she walked back into town’s outer boundary, dusk had begun to fall across the land. She quickened her pace, eager to get back to Jamie and talk. She knew they needed to, she wanted to plead with him for patience. He was probably going to need an endless supply of it to deal with her mood swings.

A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips.

Without warning, a large hand clamped across her mouth from behind. Brienne attempted to propel herself forward, but she was unable to get free. Her eyes widened when a dark hood was shoved over her head, leaving her panicked.

Heart thundering inside her chest, she fought against her attackers. Her movements were becoming increasingly restricted. Hands grabbed at her from all directions, locking her limbs into place. She manged to connect her elbow to - a face? –, the sound a satisfying thud followed by a grunt.

“Fuck it, Miles. Knock her out.”

No. If they managed to land a blow hard enough to leave her unconscious, she would be vulnerable.

Renewing her efforts to escape, she went wild in their arms. No matter how hard she fought, they would not loosen their grips. Her legs were swept from beneath here with frightening ease, her body landed on the ground with a heavy thump that left her winded.

Agonising pain bloomed from her cheek, one of the men smashing a fist into her face. Blinding, she could not brace herself for the hurt she knew was about to come. The bombardment of punches continued until she was no longer aware of anything.

Her last thought was of Jamie. She took it with her into the abyss; a talisman she hoped would bring them back together again.


	8. Despair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick warning, this chapter is a little more violent than the rest have previously been and there is threat of rape. 
> 
> Don't hate me!

 

Glancing at the door for the hundredth time in the last ten minutes, a cold fist of fear solidified in Jamie’s stomach. Something was wrong. Brienne had been gone for hours. No matter of how upset with him she had been, he couldn’t accept that she would leave him to stew for hours. She wasn’t the kind of woman to play those games.

The lively chatter from the other patrons was an irritation on his mind as he forced himself to calm down. Becoming panicked would only attract attention and take away from the ability to work through scenarios in his head.

Why hadn’t he followed her?

Self-disgust seeped into every pore of his being. He should have followed her. Jamie placed the guilt to one side, knowing that all his focus now had to be on finding her. Gods, he didn’t know where to begin. He hadn’t even seen what direction she had gone once leaving the inn.

He had been a fool to suggest stopping in Fineshade with danger lurking so closely behind. He had been reckless, selfish to want the comfort of a roof over his head for the night. Where in the seven hells was she?

After retrieving his sword and clock from their room, he hurried out in the icy air, taking stock on his surroundings. People were still wandering around, the hour not so late that sleep had come for them.

Looking from left to right and back again, a thread of despair tugged at him. If he made a wrong choice, it could cost them both dearly. He tightened his grip on the pommel of his sword and took off to the left in the direction of narrow track that led to a row of buildings.

He should never have let her leave his sight. Whether it was a conscious effort on her part or sheer bad luck, Brienne always managed to find trouble. They were much the same in that regard. All her gear had been stacked up in their room, so he assumed that she was defenceless. Well, as defenceless as Brienne could be.

Eyes touching everything in sight, he began his search for Brienne. Jamie questioned everyone he came across to no avail. Not one single person had seen her which he found alarming. One townsperson had the audacity to ask if he was sure Brienne wanted to be found, and Jamie had almost run him through with Widow’s Wail.

That was one possibility that he was unwilling to entertain. If Brienne had truly had enough of him, she would say the words to his face and most likely leave him with an injury to remember her by. No, she had not left him _._ With each passing second, he only become more certain that he had been taken from him.

It seemed as though he had every corner of the godforsaken place, finding no trace of her. Hopelessness was swiftly wrapping its sharp talons into soul. No plan was forming in his mind. Gods, he wish Tyrion were here to aid him. Help him to construct some elaborate scheme that would find her in an instant.

Turning around another corner, Jamie swore when he recognised the inn, realising he’d somehow returned to the blasted building. He stopped in his tracks when his eyes landed on a familiar lone figure leaving against the wall, arms folded.

A calculating smile was perched across the mercenary’s face. “Jamie Lannister.”

“Where is she?” Jamie demanded, barely able to restrain himself from rushing at the smaller man.

“Are you sure she’s a she?” He laughed, straightened from the wall. “When I left him, I think my brother was tempted to look.”

Nausea rose in Jamie’s stomach, the insinuation clear. He slammed the fucker into the wall with force. His next words were gritted out, anguish and fury battling for supremacy. “Where is she?”

“Woahh there. Calm down. Violence isn’t going to get what you want. Take your hands from me and we can talk about this like reasonable men.”

Jamie did as he was told. The man’s relaxed attitude was disturbing. The mercenaries had him exactly where they wanted him.

“What do you want?” He asked, certain that he already knew the answer.

“It’s not about what I want, friend.” Jamie wanted to smash his smug expression into the hard wall. “It’s about what your sister wants.”

Closing his eyes, Jamie turned away from the man. Would he ever be rid of that fucking woman? “And what does she want?”

“You back in her arms.” The man chuckled; the sound grated on Jamie’s frayed nerves.

“And Brienne?”

“The beast of a woman can go, it’s you we were paid to transport back to King’s Landing. We just happened across your companion, we only wanted her to lure you out.”

He might have found the situation amusing if Brienne wasn’t in mortal danger. Cersei had paid men to deliver him to King’s Landing unknowing that it was his destination.

“If I come with you, you’ll let her go?”

Jamie knew that it wasn’t going to play out that way, but if he were to gain even the chance of seeing her again, he would have to go along with the idiot stood in front of him.

“Of course. I’m going to need your weapons.”

Reluctantly, he handed of the sword and dagger, throwing the heavy items at the man. He caught them with a grunt. “I want to see her.”

“Don’t worry, I will take you to her. A warning for you though, my brother isn’t as reasonable as I am and if you try anything, he will gut her in front of you. That will the best outcome you can hope for because I’ve seen him do a lot worse to a woman.”

Jamie nodded. Worry for Brienne was a palpable force inside his body. He prayed to the gods that the man was exaggerating about his brother; if he wasn’t, Brienne had been alone with him long enough for him to do whatever he wanted.

One way or another, he was going to get her out of danger.

 

 

“What do you want with me?” Brienne asked for what seemed like the thousandth time. He didn’t bother to look her way, his attention focused on the only door in the room.

The man was either mute or simply did not want to engage with her. She had been asking questions since she had awoken in the dark room and he had failed to answer one.

She had recognised him instantly, the larger man from the road two days ago. She hadn’t seen his companion but was certain that more than one person had been present at her attack and subsequent kidnapping.

“Who are you?” She shouted. Her patience had run out long ago. Pain was her constant companion, only increasing her agitation. “Answer me.”

The mercenary finally glanced at her and her body shivered in response. Instantly, she knew she had made a mistake in capturing his attention.

“You want to play?” His plain face was transformed into something else entirely by a perverse smile. The sudden interest gave her chills. “I was supposed to wait for the Kingslayer to get here to begin the fun, but…” He looked around the room, eyes dancing in anticipation. “We’ve got time.”

“What do you mean by that? Who is paying you?”

“The Queen bitch herself. She wants the Kingslayer back in her bed.” Her entire being rebelled at the image his words conjured. Jamie was not a toy to be played with when Cersei was bored.

How wrong she’d been to think that knowledge could help her, would provide any kind of comfort. If anything it made the situation even dire. They were trying to lure Jamie into a trap and knowing him, he would walk straight into if he thought there was a chance of saving her. “She has no right to control his life that way.”

“As long as I get paid, I couldn’t give a shit what she does.” He took a step closer, “She knows about you and her brother. Said she’d pay double if we made you suffer and force the Kingslayer to watch.” Mouth dry, Brienne couldn’t form any words. “What’s the matter? Don’t you want to talk anymore?” His words were taunt, meant to demonstrate who possessed the power between them.

Hands tied at the wrists, Brienne could only watch in horror as the mercenary stripped on his shirt, baring his wide chest.

Once her eyes had opened, he’d plucked her from the floor with little effort and thrown her on the disgusting bed. She had scrambled up as fast as she could, encumbered by the restraints and the sharp pain that hammered away at her skull. Her left eye was closed shut due to the blows that had been landed on her face earlier.

“Stay away from me.” She warned, heart beating loudly inside her chest. Fear had slithered itself into her body, an instinctive response that she could not control.

Physical combat could be frightening; she had never shied away from that fact. But this, the threat of rape was almost paralysing. She was helpless. Completely at the monster’s mercy and she had no doubt that he didn’t possess a scrap of it.

She had missed it when they crossed paths on the road, but the longer she observed him, it became clear that he was not in his right mind. There was something missing; there was no humanity that she could connect with.

The only recognisable part of him was the lust in his eyes. Even that was tainted with a haze of madness that shredded her nerves. How she wished he would go back to ignoring her.

She had to gain control of her emotions, bury them so that she could think clearly. Though she had no way to assess how much time had passed since she had been taken, it had to have been hours. Long enough for Jamie to know that something was wrong.

He would be searching for her.

He would walk into the trap, presumably led by the other mercenary.

Together, they could overpower the two men. Together, they were unstoppable.

It assured her that she _knew_ it with such certainty. The faith she had in him gave her the injection of motivation she required to bolster her flagging energy. She would so everything she could to remain in once piece before they could set eyes on each other once again.

Considering her options, Brienne scanned the dank room like the trained fighter she was. There was very little she could use to her advantage. There was the narrow bed she had been placed on, a wooden chair and a few random items that she assumed was the man’s belongings. The only weapon in sight was a dagger strapped to the mercenary’s waist.

As he advanced towards the bed, she readied her muscles in anticipation. He would not find her easy prey. With an unsettling lack of expression, the man lunged at her without warning. Brienne batted him away with her legs, glad to find that she still possessed enough strength to do harm.

That tactic only worked for so long before he managed to utilise the massive strength in his arms and wrap them around her legs, effectively trapping them against his body. She thrashed her body as he straddled her waist.

Breath heaving, her mouth twisted in revulsion as he ran his meaty hands across her breasts. Panic clawed deep into her chest. No, she was better than this. She was capable of so much. She had to see Jamie again. Had to tell him that she loved him.

Struggling hard against his disgusting attempts to pet her body, somehow, miraculously, she succeeded in throwing him off-balance. Seizing the opportunity, she concentrated all her strength and raised her hips higher, trying to thrust him from the bed entirely.

His eyes widened with shock as his hefty body unceremoniously crashed to the floor. Everything inside Brienne’s body wanted to collapse, fall into a deep slumber and recover from her injuries but the stubborn warrior screamed at her to act before he collected his wits.

She followed his to the floor, landing on top of his thick legs and whacked her bound hands into his face as he lay dazed from the fall. Blood soon coated her hands, pouring from numerous gashes across his head. He didn’t go down passively, thrashing beneath her like a wounded animal, attempting to wrap his hand around her throat.

Sickened by the whole ordeal, Brienne scrambled up and wedged her leg onto _his_ throat. She used all of her might to propel herself forward and cut off his airway. He writhed beneath her, his entire body convulsing from the floor in a last attempt to save himself.

She needed to hold on for a few more seconds longer. He was almost gone.

Finally, his body went still.

Exhaustion washed over her, collapsing her body into a heap next to the man she had just killed. Her hands were still bound in front of her, her face a swollen mess of bruises and open wounds. Every part of her body felt broken, disconnected from her mind.

Resting her head against the damp wall, she told herself she would close her eyes. Just for a minute.


	9. The Reunion

“Your sister is a piece of work.” Jamie’s captor commented. Miles Rawson was his name, it had been jovially offered to him after the man had taken his weapons.

“I know my sister better than you.” Though Miles description of her was opt assessment. “You know, she doesn’t usually get her hands dirty. You spoke to her directly?”

Miles frowned. “Well, no. Word is she’s been laid up in bed. That nasty fuck Qyburn sought us out.”

The child. He’d almost forgotten about the child. Jamie locked that piece of information away until he had the capability to deal with it. At present, locating Brienne was his first and only concern.

“Where are we going?” He asked, changing the subject.

“Just around this corner.” Miles gestured for him to walk ahead. “Don’t forget what I said about my brother. He will hurt your woman if you fail to do as your told.”

“I understand.” Jamie bit out.

A hint of remorse was apparent in the other man’s voice when he spoke. “I’m sorry, but he probably already had. There’s a sickness inside of him that is difficult to control.”

The stew that Jamie had consumed earlier threatened to rise in his throat. “And you left her with him?”

“I had no choice. Just do as I say and I’ll do my best to ensure that no further harm comes to her.”

Jamie said nothing, quickening his pace. Anyone who dared touch her had earned a slow death.

“In there.” Miles instructed, pointing to a worn structure that had seen better days. “You go first.”

Jamie rushed to the door, walking through the threshold only to find a narrow hallway with more bloody doors. “Which one?” He snapped.

“To the right.”

Taking a fortifying breath, Jamie readied himself. He’d lived through many awful events in his life and he would live through what faced him on the other side of that door. He would drag Brienne through it too. There was no other alternative.

Covering the knob with his hand, he twisted and pushed the door open.

Jamie froze.

Blood covered her pale face, her body propped up against the wall in an uncomfortable position. No. He thought he had prepared himself for the worse, but how could he prepare for such a horrifying scene?

The only information that kept him from losing his mind entirely was that Miles’ brother was dead by Brienne’s side, his eyes wide open.

Moving on pure instinct, he elbowed Miles in the stomach. The other man wheezed, giving Jamie the opportunity to whirl around and smash his golden fist into the bastard’s face. Flesh becoming almost translucent, his body collapsed to the ground.

Jamie retrieved Widow’s Wail and stabbed him through the heart.

The dead man was immediately forgotten. “Brienne!”

Gods, she appeared…lifeless. Terror shot straight into his heart as he hurried to her side. His trembling hand reached out to touch her brutalised face, so swollen with bruises that it was would be unrecognisable to any who did not know her well.

Emotion choked him as he studied her.

“Brienne.” His voice was hoarse, so he tried again with more force. There was no response. “Please wake up.”

A soft groan escaped her lips, but her eyes remained shut. Jamie searched for something to cut the rope her hands free, his eyes landing on the knife at her assailants’ hip. Within seconds he freed her hands, uncovering ugly welts marring her wrists.

Seeing her in such a state was heart-breaking. He had seen her injured before, but never to such a degree; the sight caused a dagger to twsit inside his heart. She was so strong, so resilient that it was easy to forget that could be hurt so abominably.

He would have time to process that later. He needed to get her back to the, find a healer. How he accomplished that, he had no idea. Caution demanded that he be covert. If others learnt of what happened, gossip would spread and everyone in the seven kingdoms would be informed of their whereabouts. Friend or foe.

But his skill with healing was limited. Fuck caution. Brienne’s life mattered to him above all else and her injuries appeared serious enough that he had no choice but to seek out help from someone more who knew what they were doing. He would not take a chance with her life.

His mind raced as assessed all the possibilities.

Jamie ran outside, shouting to the first able-bodied men he came across. Startled, the men’s head whipped up.

“I need your help. Now.” Authority rang from his voice, leaving no room for disobedience.

It took longer than he would have liked, but between them they eventually delivered Brienne to their room in the inn without much jostling. Jamie sent them off to find a healer, concerned that she still unconscious.

The harassed innkeeper had followed the group into the room, demanding to know what had occurred. Worry made Jamie lash out at the harmless man. “If you can’t be of any use to me, get the fuck out. Your endless questions are of no help.” The man spluttered at the menacing tone, failing to depart quick enough for Jamie’s worn temper. “Leave!”

He let out a long sigh as he returned to Brienne’s side. Instead of allowing helplessness to overtake him, he fetched a wet cloth and began to wipe the blood away from her face and hands with careful strokes.

Finished with the task, he took a moment to fully inspect her body. Her clothes were intact; that was something. A small mercy. He could only take it as confirmation that she had not been taken against her will. From their previous conversations, he knew she would rather fight to the death than be raped. And she had fought, he surmised. She had fought well, killing the fucker with her hands bound.

Despite her obvious skill, men would continue to underestimate her for the simple fact that she was a woman. As long as it gave her an advantage, he was fine with men remaining bigoted fools.

Leaning down, he placed a soft kiss to her brow. “I’m proud of you.” Furious that she’d been alone because of his stupidity, but so proud of her determination and strength.

Her blue eyes flew open. Pain exploded in his nose as her head connected with his face. Torn between elation that she finally waking and disbelief that she had drew blood from his nose, he was momentarily stunned.

The panic in her eyes centred his racing mind. “You’re safe,” he began, placing a hand on her shoulder. She flinched away from his touch, the look in her eye resembling a wild animal that had been cruelly abused.

“Brienne, it’s Jamie. Look at me.” He commanded.

Finally, their eyes locked and the distress was slowly replaced with relief. “Jamie.”

“Yes. You’re safe.” He repeated, willing the words to fully sink into her mind. Sensing that they both needed it, Jamie settled onto the bed and tucked her beneath his arm. “I’ve sent for a healer.”

“I’m fine.” She protested.

“No, you’re not.”

It made him smile that she could still argue in her condition. “I just need to rest for a while. What happened? How am I here?”

He explained as best he could, voice cracking when he described the scene that he had walked into, the excruciating moment he had feared she may be dead. She filled in the parts he was missing.

“I am not so easy to kill.” She told him once he was finished. “I knew you’d come for me. I had to fight because I knew you were going to walk willingly into a trap.”

Guilt roared to life. “I’m sorry, it was my fault –“

“Please don’t blame yourself for this. By doing so you take the blame away from where it truly lies.”

“Cersei.” He spat the name out like a curse. She _was_ a fucking curse on his life.

“Yes.” Brienne quietly agreed. “I’ll heal, I will be fine. We dealt with the threat together and will do the same again if required.”

Jamie nodded his head, holding onto her tightly. If he ever laid eyes on his sister again, she would pay for the pain Brienne had endured at her instruction.

They were both silent for a moment, Jamie contemplating what his life would be without Brienne in it. A dark world that corrupt what was left of his soul.

“Jamie, I told myself if I lived through that there was something I could no longer delay.” She said, wincing as she straightened in his hold to meet his eye. The sight of her blackened one sickened him.

Annoyed that she was aggravating her pain, he was short with her. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow? You need to rest.”

“No, it can’t.” She replied. “I should make you wait.”

“Please do.”

Her good eye narrowed at him. “I’m trying to tell you that I love you, you ungrateful ogre.”

Words failed him. Brienne, the pure and honourable Brienne, loved him. She loved him. Or she thought she loved him. “Just how hard did that mercenary bash your head in?”

Amusement flashed across her features as she brought her battered hand to his jaw. “Well, he did a quite a job. But, I can assure you that I’ve loved you for quite some time. Years in fact. It seemed ridiculous that I might die and never would have said the words to you.”

“Brienne.” He started with wonder in his voice, his hand closing over hers. “I don’t deserve you. Today proved that.”

“Today proved nothing of the sort. Don’t argue with me, I have an awful headache.”

He licked his lips, the moisture in his mouth gone. “I won’t argue you with. Now you’ve said the words, you can’t take them back. I won’t let you. As we’ve established time and time again, I’m not a gentleman.”

“I know exactly who you are.”

He pressed a tender kiss to her mouth. “Then you must know that I love you too.”

Jamie had the pleasure of watching undiluted joy fill wash over her face, a stark contrast to the destruction that had been done by the mercenary. It was a looked that he never wished to vanish, a look he would spend his days trying to replicate at least once a day.

He’d experienced so many emotions during the day that his reserves were low.

Low enough to prevent any hesitation or doubt when he formed his next words. With the love shining from the blue orbs, he was invincible. “Brienne of Tarth, will do you me the honour of becoming my wife?”

Her mouth opened in shock. “What – “

A knock sounded on the door, silencing her. Jamie swore beneath his breath, tempted to yell a succession of insults at the person who dared interrupt them. But the only reason anyone would be knocking on their door, was if a healer had been found.

As much as he needed to hear her answer, her well-being was more important.

With a sigh, Jamie rose and opened the door.


	10. The Bath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit, chapter ten!
> 
> Thank you for all your lovely comments so far, much appreciated.

Morning light streamed into the room, drawing a disgruntled moan from Brienne’s lips. Disorientated, she bolted up, eyes searching for Jamie. A heavy pressure settled on her chest; a squeezing sensation that was an embarrassment for a woman of her abilities.

For a moment she had been back in that horrid room, the mercenary watching her with unmistakably lust in his eyes, the sense of helplessness that had threated to consume her entire being. It infuriated her that she could be reduced to a panic-stricken mess of nerves, if only for a second.

She took a deep breath and repeated to herself that she was safe until she believed it. She remembered waking in the room the previous night, talking to Jamie before the healer had given her milk of the poppy to take the pain away. The old man had interrupted an important conversation. Her hand flew to her mouth as she remembered his words.

_Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?_

She had never given him an answer, she realised. Having no recollection of the healer leaving, she assumed that she had fallen asleep immediately after he had completed his examination. Jamie must be livid with her for sleeping when such a crucial question had been left unanswered.

She found it more amusing than she should. But it _was_ funny - the Jamie Lannister, so used to instant gratification, having to wait an entire night for an answer to his proposal.

With easy movements, Brienne crawled out of bed and attempted to stand. A little unsteady. Achy. She pressed her fingers to her face, wincing as pain erupted beneath her touch. It would be tender for days yet, she mused.

Jamie’s head poked around the door as it cracked open, a frown forming on his face. “What are you doing out of bed?” He gave her no opportunity to answer, placing the plate of food in his hand on the table before guiding her back to the bed. She allowed it, because honestly, she was a little light-headed.

Concern spread across his features, “You need to learn how to rest, wench.”

“I’ve rested for long enough. We need to get going as soon as possible.”

“No,” Tone unyielding, he pulled the sheets up to her shoulders. “You were attacked last night. We can wait a day to move on.”

“We don’t have the time. We have no information about what is happening, if we wait too long…”

Jamie spoke over her. “I would wager we’re only a day behind Jon and his army; two lone travellers are going to move much quicker than an army. Arya will have to find a way to avoid them if she doesn’t want her brother to know what she’s up to. We have time.”

“I don’t like it.” In fact, she hated it.

“You don’t have to. You’re my only concern; we stay here for the night.”

Though his stubbornness was irritating, she could appreciate the sentiment, so she acquiesced. She knew her limitation and though she loathed to admit it, the thought of riding on a horse in her current condition, was utterly unappealing. “One night only.”

Relief flashed through his eyes. “Good. I’m glad I don’t have to tie you to the bed. How are you feeling?”

Was it strange that his concern made her uncomfortable? She was accustomed to taking pain in her stride without anyone to worry over her wounds. It was the like she had chosen, after all. Allowing her vulnerably to penetrate the walls she had constructed around herself was proving difficult.

“I’m fine.”

“I don’t want to hear the answer you would give every other person in your life. Tell me the truth.”

She huffed out a breath, becoming increasingly annoyed with demands. “My head is splitting. My face hurts and I can barely see out of one eye. I feel terrible, if you want the truth.”

He kissed her forehead. “I fetched some food for you. Eat that and then take more of that concoction the healer gave you.”

She protested, “It sends me to sleep.”

He grinned at her, “Believe me, I’m aware of that.” He left her side and returned with the plate. “Sleep for a few hours. I will arrange for a bath when you wake and then we can continue over conversation from last night.”

 

Jamie made good on his promise and arranged for a bath to be brought into their room when she woke from a deep slumber. As soon as it was filled, Brienne lowered herself in the warm water with a contented sign, eager to scrub the dirt and grime from her skin.

Sleeping the morning away had been a good decision. She had a renewed energy that would be required for the days ahead.

Jamie was hovering, needlessly worrying that she was going to fall unconscious in the bath. Every so often she would catch his jaw clench, a response to the bruises that littered her body.

“If you’re going to stand there, you can at least live up to your word and help me clean this filth from my body.”

“My pleasure.” He said, kneeling down to the tub. “Not quite how I imagined it, but it will do for now.”

Brienne laid back, enjoying the sensation of Jamie’s hand roaming across her body in circular motions. Having someone care for her in such a way still seemed foreign, but she forced herself to relax beneath his touch. Take the comfort that he offered.

Despite his tendency to purposefully aggravate those around him, she had come to learn that he was incredibly considerate and tender to those he loved. Protective. She was the first to admit that she didn’t need protection, but

“Are you sufficiently clean?” He enquired, a playful glint to his eye.

Brienne pretended to inspect her body. “I think you got the job done.”

“Good.” A more serious expression settled across his face. “Now, are you going to put me out of my misery?”

She was surprised that he had been able to wait so long to mention the proposal, his patience low at the best of times. Whilst she wanted to give him exactly what he wanted, old doubts were difficult to entirely erase. “Are you sure you want to marry me?”

“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.” Sincerity rang from his words causing a peculiar pulling on her heart.

“No one will accept our union; they will think us mad – you for marrying a woman of my ilk and me for marrying the kingslayer.”

“Fuck them. Should we live our lives to suit others?”

“No, I’m just trying to explain what we would be up against.” If gave into the all-consuming love only for Jamie to bow under the pressure of society, there would be recovering from that kind of loss.

“As long as you’re by my side, I’ll be happy. Brienne, marrying you is the first major choice I will have ever made for myself. I would not make that decision lightly.”

“Be sure.” She begged. “Once it’s done, I won’t let you take it back.”

“Anyone who tried to make me part with you would be securing their own death. I love you, I want you to be the mother of my children. I’m quite certain that I can no longer live without you.”

She studied him intently, holding his gaze. Praying that she had made the right decision. She would fooling herself if she thought it hadn’t already been made long ago. She was enraptured by the man, truly and completed. There was no walking away from that depth of feeling.

“Then I will marry you.”

A dazzling smile lit his handsome face as he tilted forward and closed his mouth over hers. Kissing him would never fail to drive her to distraction. Only the two of them existing as their tongues brushed against each other with blazing passion.

She gripped his hair, raw need shooting straight to her core. It had been an age since she’d experience his body stroking deep inside hers.

Jamie drew back abruptly, breath having inside his chest, eyes levelling to hers. “Do not tempt me.”

“We could be careful.” She suggested, undeterred by his rebuttal.

Indecision was written across his face. The outline of his cock was visible through his breeches. “No, you're in no condition for sex.”

Frustrated, Brienne rested against the back of the rub once again, flicking a stream of water in his direction. “You’re becoming boring in your old age.” His disbelief was comical. Attempting to form words, he could only splutter. “And everyone thinks I’m the dull one.”

She laughed aloud, delighted by his outraged reaction to her teasing. Brienne couldn’t remember the last time she had been so carefree, so happy.

Finally, he announced, “I’m not going to rise to the bait. Now that you’ve agreed to become my wife, we’ll have the rest of our lives to make love. I may even make you wait until we are married. That would be the proper course of action.”

Brienne raised her brows. “I believe we’ve already had this discussion. I would like to see how long you last, but if you’re serious….” She left the next words unsaid, ready to call his bluff.

“I’m not fucking serious, Brienne.” He said, somewhat testily. “You have me wrapped around your finger. But I will demonstrate some willpower today.”

Holding out a hand to him, she beckoned him back to her side, warmth sliding over her as his hand laced with hers. Bringing their entwined hands to her mouth, she kissed his tanned skin. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I look forward to testing your patience for the rest of our lives.” She smiled, confident that she would succeed in driving him crazy if she so wished.

“And I look forward to waking next to you every morning.” Kneeling again, he took her mouth in a tender kiss.


	11. Cold Air

 

“It’s been too long since I’ve touched you like this.” Jamie whispered in Brienne’s ear, his frame mounted over hers.

She snorted. “It’s been three days.”

He nipped at her lower lip. “Three _long_ days.” Leaning back on his haunches, he untucked the shirt from her trousers, exposing her firm stomach. Her muscles quivered beneath the trail of kisses he brushed across her.

Wasting no time, Jamie removed her clothing with some help from her, chucking when she gasped in response to the cold air. The temperature was warmer than it had been further up north, but not by much. Goosebumps shivered all over her body.

However much he longer for a bed, for light to see her flushed with passion, they had decided to avoid any settlements after their disastrous stay in Fineshade. Though they had seen no signs of other mercenaries, they were both in agreement that it wasn’t worth the risk. Cersei had undoubtedly dispatched more than two men after them.

So roughing it in the elements was their life for the time being.

Jamie rid himself of his own clothing, needing to feel her body against his without any barriers. Enduring the cold was a small price to pay for such a prize. It _had_ been too long since he had touched her with intent to take her. He could scarcely contain his excitement at finally being about to join their bodies once more.

In a bold move, Brienne fisted his cock and pumped him within her hand. “Are you certain you don’t want to wait until we’re officially wed?”

A low growl sounded from his throat. “You are playing with fire.” His hips bucked when she slid a thumb over the head of his cock, slick with pre-come. “Brienne.”

Heat radiated from her body now, stoked by desire. “I want to feel you inside of me again.”

Control snapping, Jamie ground out, “Turn over.”

Moving too slowly for his liking, he helped flip her onto her stomach. Lifting her onto her knees, he had his tongue delving through her wet folds in seconds. Male satisfaction pulsed through him as the sounds of her soft moans filled his ears.

His own desire made him impatient; unable to wait any longer to be inside of her, Jamie rose up and slammed his impossibly hard cock into her waiting channel, stilling when he bottomed out. With her scorching heat surrounding him, he could no longer feel the cold air biting at his skin.

“Fuck.”

“Jamie, move.” The demand came out a hoarsely.

Propelled into action by the raw need in her voice, he took her mercilessly. Slaps of flesh rang through the night accompanying their carnal sounds of pleasure. Jamie gripped her hip with his hand, trying to slow his pace, trying to regain control. But it was pointless. His lust for her had taken over completely, his discipline had vanished long ago.

Brienne took all that he had to give, a perfect match for the fire that burned within him. She was wild, unabandoned and he loved it. No one else would see this side of her. No other would hear her sweet cries of pleasure or have their cocked milked by the force of her orgasm.

Possessiveness powered through him. She was his, only his.

Uninhibited, they found an unsteady rhythm that exhibited their desperation, all thoughts of finesse and tender loving forgotten. Their frantic bodies clashed together in need. Sobbing his name, Brienne’s inner walls contracted around him in a strangling grip that shot fire down his cock.

A part of him wanted to resist the urge to spill inside of her. Prolong the ecstasy he experience in that moment, but he could not. With a gravelly moan, he surged deep inside and poured his seed.

Jamie couldn’t find the strength do more than ease out of her and fall by her side, his body spent.

 

With great effort, they helped dress one another. Unfortunately, the dropping temperature would not allow Jamie to hold a naked Brienne in his arms. He’d become so accustomed to sleeping out in the elements, he wondered how they would acclimatise to living within fours walls again once the battle was all done with.

Where would they live? They had discussed abstract plans for the future, but nothing specific. It had occurred to him that Brienne may want to return to Tarth for a time, but would she want to live there? It was a conversation that would be had soon.

“Jon won’t be happy when we inform him of Arya’s plans.” Brienne thought aloud once they had settled back into their make-shift bed for the night.

“Please tell me Jon Snow wasn’t on your mind whilst I fucking you.”

She pinched his arm. Hard. “He is quite handsome.”

“That is not at all funny.”

Laughing at him, she laid her head on his chest. “We both know dark-haired northerners are not my type.”

“You’re becoming more unruly with every passing day.” He would only admit to himself that he liked it. It displayed how comfortable she was growing around him, unafraid to play and speak her mind. “We should reach him tomorrow.”

Earlier in the day they had come across a farmer who had informed them that there were only a few hours away from Snow’s army. They could have caught up with him at numerous times throughout the past few days, but Jamie had ensured they’d travelled slowly, taking no chances with Brienne’s recovery.

She grumbled about it, but he had excelled at detecting lies from her lips. He recognised the moments in which she struggled. As her husband – in his mind they were already married – it was his duty to care for her. Particularly when she didn’t want it.

“Disregarding the run-in with the mercenaries, I’ve rather enjoyed our time alone.” She admitted, her arm now draped across his stomach.

“Aren’t you glad I insisted on joining you on this quest?” He asked with a smile.

“I am. You have been attentive to my needs.” To emphasise just how attentive he had been, Jamie cupped her buttocks. “Stop distracting me. We need a plan for tomorrow.”

“We have a plan.” Jamie retorted, “Find Jon Snow, tell him about Arya and travel with his army to King’s Landing.”

“If we do that Arya could reach King’s Landing before us.”

“Possibly,” he conceded, “We’ll play it by ear then.”

Brienne was silent for a moment. Thoughtful. “If we do manage to find her, I’m unsure what we should actually do. Sansa said she’s determined to kill Cersei and quite honestly, after witnessing all that I have of her at Winterfell, I believe she could do it.”

Jamie no longer had conflicted emotions about the matter. Cersei had made her choices. Choices that were going to lead her to certain death and he refused to follow her to an early grave. Brienne was his future.

“We keep her safe whilst she carries out her task. After we explain Sansa’s concerns about the Dragon Queen.”

Brienne exhaled, displaying her frustration. “I’m worried, Jamie. All of this uncertainty…the war for the throne cannot end well.”

“Much of it is out of our control.” He told her, hoping that she would accept that fact. As much as he knew Brienne wished it, they could not right every wrong. “We’ll do what we can. Tyrion, however, is right in the middle of it.”

“We’ll do what we can for him.” Brienne promised, repeating his words back to him.

Jamie feared that helping his brother was out of their power. He’d placed himself at the centre of the war for the Iron Throne. Aiding the Dragon Queen in a war against Cersei. Knowing what he did of the two women, Jamie knew with all certainty that Tyrion was in the least desirable position in Westeros. With the exception, perhaps, of Jon Snow.

Pulling the thick blanket over them, Jamie curled into Brienne’s long form, taking the comfort that only she could offer.

 

The next morning, they set off early on the Kingsroad. To say that he was looking forward to reconnecting with Snow, would be an utter lie. The only thing that lifted his spirits was the prospect of soon being reunited with his brother.

Being alone with Brienne had been close to perfect. It had given them the opportunity to learn each other in the most intimate of ways. Physically, and emotionally. He had also learned a great deal of details about her home and her family that she had never disclosed to him before. In return, he had given her snippets into his life as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.

He didn’t want this time between them to be over.

By the time the army came into view, his mood had soured once again. Brienne rolled her eyes at his miserable expression. She would get some odds look, he thought. Thanks to the fucking mercenary, an explosion of colour had erupted on her face from the bruising. No doubt, there would be people who assumed that he was the cause of them.

It turned his stomach that he had fought her in the past, back when she had been tasked with returning him to King’s Landing. Sparring was one thing, actually causing her harm was another.

“Come on.” She called, spurring her horse forward. “Finding Jon in this will be difficult.”

It turned out that it was a lot easier than she had expected. A rider straggling behind the rest recognised them and led them right to Jon’s feet – or his horse more specially.

A combination of surprise and concern registered on his face before he led them to the side of the road, away from the commotion of the passing army. They all dismounted, Jon speaking first. “Lady Brienne. Ser Jamie. What’s going on?”

Jamie simply nodded, clueless as to how he was supposed to address the man in front of him. He’d possessed so many titles in his short life – in the last year alone – it was impossible to keep track. Happy to leave the talking to Brienne, he remained quiet.

“We have news regarding you sister, Arya.” Brienne started, apprising him of the situation in a few short sentences. He found her no non-sense way of talking extremely appealing.

Jon’s expression thundered, but his tone was caring when he spoke. “I’d forgotten how annoying those brats could be.” Jamie saw a war waging deep inside the younger man, ties to his family and the woman he loved, fighting for dominance. “The situation is worse than that. Dany sent a message a couple of days ago. Her fleet was destroyed by Euron Greyjoy; they’ve taken Missandei as a hostage. Rhagael was hurt in the attack; she’s not sure if he will survive.”

He turned his back to them, sighing deeply. “She will know that Sansa has revealed my true identity by now.”

“Tyrion?” Jamie asked, terrified that his brother had been captured by their deranged sister. Cersei would take pleasure in crucifying him.

“He’s fine. With Dany at Dragonstone. He wrote to me too. He says that Dany is fraying around the edges. If she thinks people are conspiring against her, I fear…”

“That Sansa will be proved right.” Brienne finished for him when he couldn’t force the words from his mouth.

A curt nod from Jon. “Yes. Sansa thinks I’m blinded by love, but I’m not a fool. I know exactly who Daenerys is and how much she has scarified to make it this far. My family will be in danger if she turns.”

Jamie sensed that Jon was only speaking so freely with them because he was concerned that Daenerys was a legitimate threat. If anyone could sympathise, it was him. He’d been in love with the wrong woman for most of his life, willing to overlook everything that didn’t fit in with his image of their ‘destined love’.

“No one we’ve seen has any information about Arya.” Brienne said, concern evident.

Jon frowned, and swore under his breath. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

Brienne nodded. “She is skilled at concealing her movements.”

“It’s not only that.” Jon countered, directing his eyes away from them. He took a moment before continuing. “She can conceal her identity. After she defeated the Night King, she told me of her journey since we last parted.”

Never one to mince his words, Jamie asked. “What does that mean?”

When Jon hesitated once more, Brienne stepped towards him. “We do not mean Arya any harm, I’m sworn to protect her.”

Jon looked to Jamie. “And him?”

“You know my thoughts about Jamie.” A small pause, a slither of insecurity creeping into her tone. “And we’re to be wed. He will not betray me.”

Jamie ducked his head to hide his stupid grin. He had thought it would take some coaxing to get Brienne to admit their betrothal to others. Pride was a palpable force coursing through him.

Jon’s reaction was not expected. Instead of disbelief, there was a genuine smile. “Then I offer my congratulations.”

“Thank you. Now, are you going to tell us about Arya?” Jamie questioned, impatient.

Any soft emotion that had been present seconds earlier, was gone. Replaced with a solemn expression that Jamie thought must be his default setting.

“She trained as a Faceless Man.”

Jamie’s eyes widened. Fucking hells, the Starks had transformed into a fascinating family in recent years. He couldn’t wait to hear this story.


	12. Error In Judgement

During the next few days they journeyed south with Jon Snow. Brienne could think of no other option; Arya could be anywhere wearing any face. It was disheartening to realise that their mission had been pointless from the start, Arya being as unobtainable as a ghost.

Brienne was growing restless, the feeling exacerbated by their distinct lack of plan. She and Jamie had discussed many options over the last few days, some with Jon himself, and they were no closer to deciding. Jamie had suggested they remain with Jon, who would lead them to the Dragon Queen.

If she was in their sights, they could observe from a distance.

As long as Arya was in the wind, she would be safe. It was a good hypothesis, but it didn’t stop worry gnawing at her gut. Pursuing her goal of killing Cersei, Arya would be in danger. There was no doubt now that she could get close enough to get the job done, but if she accomplished her task, would she be able to get out of the city alive?

Though she was concerned, after listening to Jon Snow’s retelling of Arya’s tale, she had concluded that Arya was the last person who needed her protection. Brienne had hear many whispers about the Faceless Men in her lifetime, and everyone of them painted the group as ruthless assassins who never failed to kill their mark.

Alone, Arya could move around Westeros undetected. She and Jamie had two of the most recognisable faces in the seven kingdoms. It was obvious they would be a hindrance even if they did manage to locate her.

And then there was the matter of Jamie himself. Brienne believed him when he said that he had put Cersei behind him. Despite herself, she even believed that he loved her. But the woman was still his flesh and blood, they shared the kind of history that would bound most people together for life. Brienne doubt, as much as he wanted it to be true, that if given the opportunity he would not do all he could to save her life.

“Brienne.” Jamie nudged her shoulder with his own to get her attention. “Eat something.”

He shoved a plate of food in her direction, his body wedged close to hers on a fallen long. Since joining the Jon’s men, they had taken their evening meals with the rest of the men, sat around campfires. Most of them had ignored their presence for one reason or another, but it was an excellent way of keeping their ears to the ground.

“I’m not hungry.” She replied, telling the truth. She ascribed her lack of appetite to the utter frustration she felt as being so stagnate, unable to make a bloody decision.

He held her gaze for a minute. “Eat anyway. You’re going to need to be at full strength for what is to come.”

She sighed, taking the food. Taking small bites, she swallowed most of it down without trouble. She didn’t know whether to thank Jamie or bash him around the head. His insistence upon taking care of her was endearing and highly irritating in equal measure.

Though she supposed she did the same for him. She rubbed salve into his aching stump in the evenings, made sure he drank enough because he never seemed to remember. They would sneak away together to wash, and she would clean his body.

Jamie’s intense stare was unnerving her. “What’s the matter with you?” She asked.

“What’s the matter with you?” He countered.

“You know what the matter is. I’m failing Lady Sana. I’m failing Arya.”

Jamie’s eyes flickered to the men around them. His voice was low when he said, “We’ve been over this countless times. There is nothing we could do for her without making the situation a hundred times worse.”

“So we do nothing.” She snapped, unsure why she was taking her bad mood out on him.

“We’re not doing nothing. We’ll soon be with the Dragon Queen; we can reassess once reach the rendezvous point.”

“That is precisely the definition of doing nothing.” She rose, irrationally upset. “I’m going for a walk.”

“Do you remember what happened last time you ran from me?” His voice was a whip of anger, his head shaking.

“Stop treating me like a helpless female. I’m capable of defending myself as you well know.”

He was impossible and he’d drawn attention that they didn’t need. All who surrounding them had stopped what they were doing, and their eyes were on them. Watching with interest and amusement. Brienne’s face flamed at the unwanted attention, embarrassed that they were causing a scene.

“Yes, I do.” He was silent for a moment. “Fine, go.”

The cheek of him! “I don’t require your permission.”

“One hour and then I’ll come and find you.”

Words choked in her throat as chorus of ‘ohhs’ came from the watching men. It was more humiliating that he spoke to her in such a way in front of the men they should be presenting a united front to. In that moment, she had to question whether he had any respect for her at all.

Looking Jamie straight in the eye, she told him very calmly to fuck off.

She refused to look backwards as she stormed off. How dare he treat her that way? She took no notice of where she was going, inwardly fuming at his audacity. It was times like these she saw the spoilt Lannister that everyone else in Westeros despised.

Brienne wound her way through the tents, keeping up the momentum of her fast pace. She decided that a brisk walk would do her good. She’d been all but shackled to Jamie since they had left Winterfell, and that was not her way. She was a solidary creature; being in the company of other’s for too long was taxing.

She needed her own space, time to think and breathe without his interference. Without his worry that she wasn’t hungry or his worry that she would be injured. If they were to be married, he had to accept her the way she was. She would change for no man.

Accidently, Brienne stumbled upon Jon Snow and Ser Davos, who were in conversation on the outer edge of camp. Before she could sneak away undetected, they both glanced up.

Davos gave her a welcoming smile. “Ser Brienne.”

She smiled at that. “Ser Davos. My Lord.” She directed at Jon, earning nod from him.

“You’re looking rather pissed off if you don’t mind me saying.” Davos said bluntly. During their time at Winterfell she had quickly gotten used to his manner of speaking.

“I am as a matter of fact.”

Jon frowned. “Are the men giving you trouble?”

“Just one.” She stated, watching the understand dawn in their eyes. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Brienne turned to leave the men, but Davos called out to her. “We’re finished here. I’ll walk back with you if you like.”

Taken back, Brienne could only nod. They said their goodbyes to Jon who was already being hailed by an officer. Walking back into the centre of the camp, she folded her hands behind her back, feeling somewhat awkward.

“So,” Davos began, “What has he done?”

Brienne hesitated. “I don’t know whether I should speak about him behind his back.”

The Onion Knight laughed, the sound oddly comforting to her ears. “It’s the key to a successful marriage. You will have to learn how to vent or you will explode.”

She sighed. “It wasn’t entirely his fault. I hate the thought I’ve failed the Stark girls and it’s making me overly irritable. “Explaining their conversation and how Jamie had treated her like an insolent child, she was annoyed all over again.

Davos whistled. “He made a grave error with that comment. Sorry if I’m overstepping my boundaries here, but I assume that your marriage is a love match? From all accounts, you’ve been through a lot together.”

“Yes, we care for each other deeply.” She confirmed, curious as to what advice Davos had to offer.

“I can’t imagine that it is easy for a man to love a woman who rides into battle with him.” She bristled but remained silent. “What I mean to say is that the man loves you. You were seriously hurt less than a week ago, that is going to be fresh in his mind. He’s also astute enough to realise it won’t be the last time.”

“He’s known who I am from the beginning.”

“That is true enough, but love can do funny things to a man. He won’t be rational where you’re concerned. How would you feel if he was hurt?”

Brienne mulled it over. When those vile humans had taken his hand she had barely known Jamie and it had still sickened her beyond reason. She had despised seeing him so broken. If something like that were to happen to him now, she –

Nausea rose. She shut the thought down, shaken to the core. “I understand.”

Davos placed a comforting hand on her lower arm. “Are you alright? You’ve paled.”

“I’m fine.” She quickly replied, embarrassed that she had allowed weakness to break through. “Thank you for your counsel.”

“I haven’t done much. You’re a good woman, you deserve some happiness after traipsing around Westeros for years. Now, I don’t know if the Lannister deserves you, but I suppose it’s not really about that is it? Just remember, men always find a way to fuck it up. It’s your job to show him the error of his ways.”

Brienne laughed softly. “I can certainly do that.”

“Good. Now go and get some rest, we’re all going to need it for the shitstorm we’re about to walk into to.” He was right about that. An impending sense of doom was present around camp, the men certain that they were marching to their deaths, one way or another.

Before leaving, she asked, “Ser Davos, what do you think is going to happen?”

“Anyone’s guess.” He said grimly. “ I fear that Jon is in danger. As soon as word spreads about his heritage, there will be no stopping the tidal wave that crashes through Westeros.”

Brienne watched him walk away, his words replaying in her mind, helping to put her disagreement with Jamie into perspective. In a matter of weeks, they could all be dead. She would not waste time on petty arguments.

She headed in the direction of their small tent lent to them by Jon. Though she was ready to forgive him for his massive error in judgement, she would be making it clear that another occurrence of such stupidity would end in violence.


	13. Unexpected News

They had finally reached their destination.

Mounted on his horse, Jamie cast his eyes to the sprawling city that sat across the landscape. King’s Landing. A place he’d called home for many years. It brought back a myriad of memories that were now tinged with distaste.

Brienne look to him, expression somewhat concerned. The look that passed between them said a thousand words. They were about to enter the vicinity of the only person who could destroy their future together.

Over the last month, Jamie thought he’d succeeded in gaining Brienne’s trust in the way they both needed to ensure their relationship worked. He was confident they would come out the other side of this conflict and live a happy life. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking, but he truly felt could survive the battle for the throne.

They continued riding along, a distance behind Jon Snow as he led the army to the clearing they would set up camp in. Far enough away from the city to provide a safe distance, but in range for the battles to come. Once there, the plan was to send word to his Queen that they were in place.

No correspondence had come from the Dragon Queen in the last week, causing Jamie to feel uneasy. Something was amiss. Call it a gut feeling or experience, but he knew something was wrong. He’d shared his fears with Brienne and she agreed with his assessment.

As they could confirm nothing, all they could do was speculate with each other.

He really had no idea what to expect going forward. Jon Snow had been quiet about the battle plans, keeping information close to his chest. Not at all surprising as he had the brother of his enemy within earshot.

As much as he loathed to admit it, the northerners continued distrust of him was irksome. He wanted their acceptance, for Brienne’s sake he told himself. She was close with the Starks and their opinions mattered to her when so many others did not. He imagined she would want to visit with them in the future, and he would like to be welcome to travel with his wife and children.

It was in equal parts terrifying and miraculous to think that he could get the opportunity to be a father again, a real one. If he were to have more children, he would make so many different choices. Losing three children he had never been permitted to claim as his own had given him a new perspective on fatherhood.

It was not even outside the realm of possibility that she could be with child at that very moment - weeks ago she’d admitted that she had ran out of the herbs the maester had given her before departing Winterfell. Unlikely to have happened so quickly, but as they were to be married as soon as the situation allowed, he did not think he would mind.

In fact, he would be overjoyed at the news.

Turning his thoughts to present matters, Jamie had found their time with the army to be marginally better than Jamie had expected. Despite having thousands of others to converse with if they wished, he and Brienne still spent most of their time riding together. Sometimes in comfortable silence whilst other times they would engage in debates that would last for hours.

Since the night she had stormed off his camp, he’d made more of an effort to give his protective instincts reined in. He understood why she took offence to his manner of speaking, especially in front of the men. However, it was the explicit description of the violence she would inflict upon him if he ever spoke to her again in such a way, that kept his mouth shut.

He had to admit their life would never be boring together.

No, she would certainly keep him on his toes. She would never make excuses for his bad behaviour, forcing him to admit his mistakes. Ask for forgiveness. He doubted she would ever have the need to apologise to him. With the exception of being a little too stubborn at times, she was damn near perfection.

 

 

The new camp was set up in a matter of hours, everyone eager to settle in despite the fact that war was just around the corner. For better or for worse, they would be staying in the same place for longer than a single night and all the soldiers would welcome the respite.

Brienne certainly would. After months of home comforts at Winterfell, the journey South had been taxing, particularly when taking into consideration the injuries she had acquired on route. She was most certainly ready for a few days rest. Though she had to wonder how much rest she would realistically get in the centre of a war camp.

They were loud, often vulgar places that few women would ever want to visit, yet alone become embroiled in. Whilst she did not exactly feel at home surrounding by thousands of ruthless men, there was a kind of familiarity that she had come to find oddly comforting. She also appreciated the direct way men interacted with each other.

“Brienne.” Jamie called, jerking his head towards Ser Davos who was striding their way with a grim expression on his face.

She left her horse and approached the older man with Jamie by her side. “Ser Davos.” She greeted.

As they exchanged short pleasantries, she noted the worrisome glances he cast Jamie’s way, causing her stomach to drop. Brienne looked at him expectantly, patience worn down by the hours of helping to build the camp.

His eyes darted between them. “Jon just returned from a meeting with the Queen. Cersei has executed Missandei and captured Tyrion in the carnage that followed.”

A full five seconds passed before Jamie exploded. “What? How the fuck did that happen? She will kill him if she hasn’t already.”

Brienne placed a hand on his shoulder to offer whatever comfort should could, but he shrugged it off, his body wound with furious energy that had no where to go.

“What happened?” She asked quietly, aware that once Jamie calmed himself, he would want to know as much information as possible.

Davos sighed. “Jon didn’t get many details. As you would expect the Queen is distraught. She was a nice lass.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “Tyrion and Qyburn met to talk on behalf of their respective queens. Talks disintegrated and Cersei had Missandei beheaded. Qyburn somehow managed to drag Tyrion back inside the walls with him. It’s unclear exactly.”

Jamie inhaled sharply, visibly struggling with his temper. “Did the Dragon Queen not retaliate? I find that difficult to believe.”

“From what Jon has said they’ve lined the city with the advanced Scorpions. Rhaegal is still recovering from his last encounter with them; I doubt she wanted to risk the chance of one of the dragons getting seriously injured. She had the sense of mind to delay the attack until a calculated plan could be formed.”

“What is the plan?” Brienne asked.

Davos shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing has been decided yet. Jon is adamant the men need to rest for at least a few days. Cersei won’t send her forces outside the city so we’re safe here for now.”

“And Tyrion? She’s just going to leave her Hand in the clutched of her greatest enemy?” Bitterness swelled in each of Jamie’s words. Brienne’s heart physically ached for him. He knew the depths of Cersei’s cruelty better than most, especially when it came to the brother she despised for simply existing.

“Well…there is more.” Davos revealed, his tentative tone exacerbated Brienne’s worry. “Cersei has offered an exchange. Jamie for Tyrion.”

The ground seemed to vanish from beneath her feet, she was barely aware of the long list of curses bellowing from Jamie’s lips. She couldn’t make herself move or speak. Her mind simply stuck on Davos’ words.

_Jamie for Tyrion. Jamie for Tyrion. Jamie for Tyrion._

Finally recovering enough to force her limbs to work, Brienne turned away from the two men, a stifling heat infusing her body. _Jamie for Tyrion._

The blazing heat was replaced with a block of ice-cold fear, it’s tendrils consuming her entire being. Jamie would take the offer. He’d told her many times he regretted that he hadn’t spoken up for his brother more throughout their lives. Cersei knew that, counted on it when she had given her Hand the order to capture Tyrion.

“Brienne.” Jamie’s face focused into view as she realised that he was in front of her, enfolding her body in his arms. “You’ve gone white.”

“Because I know you.” She replied, holding onto him tightly. She never wanted to let go because she feared the moment she did, he would be gone from her life forever.

He nuzzled her neck. “I don’t have a choice.”

“Yes, you do.” That wasn’t fair, was it? Tyrion was his brother. She refused to be the woman to force him to make an impossible choice. “I’m sorry, I just…”

“Shhh. I’m the one who’s sorry. I should have known she would find a way to win in the end. She always does. I know she will likely kill him in the end just to spite me anyway, but it there is a small chance that I can save him, I have to take it.” The defeat in his voice was heart-breaking, crumbling her last defence against the tears that had always been inevitable.

She drew back, taking his face within her hands. “She can’t win against Daenerys. She’ll be gone from this world soon.”

“Perhaps, but I fear the damage will have already been done by then. Will you still want me if I willingly go to her?”

“Jamie, you’re not going to her of your own free will. She’s put you in a position where you cannot refuse. To do so would mean certain death for Tyrion.”

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. “I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to go back to her, to the man I once was.”

Tears fell freely now as her heart broke into a million pieces. Losing him was hard enough, seeing his distress was more than she could handle. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

“No, please. Go back to Winterfell. Or to Tarth. The chances of me surviving this now are low, Brienne. I want you safe, away from all of this. If I do survive, I will come and find you.”

She pressed a wet kiss to his mouth. “You know me better than that.”

“Please, Brienne.”

She shook her head. “No, I’ll be here. I’ll be fighting to get to you.”

His green eyes melded into hers. “I don’t deserve you.”

The statement was so ridiculous that she ignored it. “We’ll be okay.” They had to be. She had to find a way to get through this madness without him there to lean on. She had to be strong.

Jamie swiped a piece of her hair out of her face in a tender move, a secret smile spreading across his lips. “If I’m going to do this, I want to walk into with you as my wife. I want to make vows to you. I want you to know that I will uphold those vows and remain true to you when I enter those gates.”

Looking at his handsome face, she knew she would love the man for the rest of her life. If they were to part never to see each other again, to die before they got the chance to reunite, she would rather do it as his wife.

“Let’s get married.” She said, sealing the words with a loving kiss.

 

 


	14. Opposition

“The Queen has forbidden the exchange.” Jon Snow announced before Jamie could even get a word out of his mouth. He and Brienne had spent the night in each other’s arms, making the most out of every second they had left together before he had to leave her side. It was agony and ecstasy warring against each other.

Every time she sighed his name, he wondered if he’d ever hear her soft cries of pleasure again. He was tormented by the prospect of her being pregnant now that he had little chance of meeting his child if it were so.

His heart had never been so heavy with grief for the future they may have had. In her presence, he maintained a façade. A false belief that everything was going to workout in their favour, but he didn’t _feel_ it. All he felt was a taunting panic, and a sense of loss that was excruciating.

He’d left her a short while ago to seek out Jon Snow to discuss particulars. After trudging around camp for the last twenty minutes, he’d finally located him within his tent.

“It’s my choice to make.” Jamie replied, forcing himself to pay attention. “She has no right to interfere in this.”

Jon sat, gesturing for him to do the same. “She’s charged me with making sure Cersei doesn’t get what she wants. She’s half convinced that you’ve planned this together. You have to admit that it could be interpreted that way by those who haven’t had the opportunity to see you and Brienne together.”

Jamie fought the visceral urge to scream in frustration. All who had a claim to the fucking throne were cut from the same cloth, only caring about their own position and power. Tyrion had aided the Dragon Queen, given her guidance that landed her on the shores of Westeros and she was willing to let Cersei kill him out of spite.

Fuck that and fuck her. “Unless you’re going to forcibly stop me from making this exchange, it’s happening.”

“You know she won’t let him go.” Jon said with a hint of sadness. “You know her better than anyone. She won’t let him go.” He repeated. Jamie didn’t want to listen to anymore reasons why he shouldn’t do it.

He’d spent all night trying to talk himself out of it, the thought of walking away from Brienne into Cersei’s clutches was unbearable. But the facts were the facts and he couldn’t change them, not matter how much he wished it were so.

“All I know for certain is that if I refuse to do as she demands, he would definitely die. After everything I’ve done, I can’t have that on my conscience too.” Once Brienne had digested the information, he’d given her the details of Cersei’s terms that Davos had relayed to him. He known from the moment she turned away from them that she ceased taking anything else in.

In short, he had two days to hand himself over to Cersei or Tyrion would meet the same fate as Missandei. Jamie doubted his sister would be so kind to give him a quick death like the poor girl had received; he’d be tortured. Cersei loved her games and she had been waiting for decades to torment Tyrion without anyone stepping in on his behalf.

Speculating about what he had endured already was too much for Jamie to cope with. His brother was many things, but did not possess the mind to endure physical pain for a long period of time.

“And what about Brienne? Does she support your decision?”

The question twisted his stomach into knots. “She knows that I could not live with myself if I allowed that vile bitch to kill my brother without trying to prevent it. I have a chance to save him. Besides, we all know she’s not going to kill me.”

“No, but Dany might if she finds you with Cersei once we take the city. She allowed you to fight for Winterfell because we needed every man available. She let you live after that because you stayed out of her way. She will have no qualms about killing you.”

Was he supposed to be frightened by a girl barely out of childhood? “I can deal with that problem when I get to it.” He said with confidence. If he made it that far, he would not allow a slip of a girl to take his future with Brienne away from him.

Jon searched his face, sighing heavily. “I won’t stop you. If it was one of my siblings, I do the same.”

Relief coursed through his body. It would have been difficult to find a way to leave camp if Jon was opposed to the idea. “Davos said I had two days, so I’ll go tomorrow.” He paused, wondering how to approach the next topic. “I know you’ve no reason to do anything for me, but I need to ask you for your help. Brienne and I would like to marry before I make the exchange.”

A touch of surprise showed on Jon’s face. “What can I do?”

“Send some riders to the nearby towns to locate a septon. We won’t be able to have the full ceremony, but it will do for now. It needs to be somewhat formal so it will be recognised as a legitimate union.”

“Shouldn’t be too difficult.” Jon said, his voice far away. “We can have a small ceremony at dusk. Some good has to come from all the death and destruction we’ve seen over the last years.”

“And what about you? Do you think you’ll marry?” Jamie questioned, aware they had both taken and broken vows renouncing their right to be with a woman at one point in their lives. “I never thought I would, and now I can think of little else.”

“I don’t think so, no.”

Jamie angled his head. “You could marry Daenerys and rule together?”

“It would never work, not now she knows I have the greater claim to the throne. She wants to rule without opposition and I don’t want anything to do with the throne. It corrupts everyone who touches it.”

“Or they’re already corrupt to begin with.” Jamie countered, “You’re not at all tempted?”

A look of disgust passed over his features. “No. I grew up a bastard, watching those in high positions play games whilst the smallfolk struggle to survive. Who sits on the throne has very little impact of their day to day life, yet it is them who suffer the most when wars are fought by those who want the crown.”

“Perhaps someone who understands that would be best suited for the job.” Jamie suggested. Out of all the potential rulers, he would feel most comfortable with Jon on the throne. He never thought he’d see the day he wanted a Stark on the throne, or well, a Targaryen, he supposed. Either way, acknowledging that truth was a shock to the system.

“Dany is my Queen.” Jon said in a toneless voice that would give Bran a run for his money.

Jamie said nothing in response. Anyone else in the seven kingdoms would be more qualified to give Jon advice than him. He understood why the younger man would want nothing to with politics and power plays, however, he could see Sansa’s point about the Dragon Queen. She was not the ruler that Westeros needed following years of unrest and war.

“Thank you for your help.” Jamie stood, dusting off his trousers. He was eager to get back to Brienne and spend what little time they had left together.

Jon rose from his seat, “I’ll send word when a septon is found and I’ll arrange for a message to be sent to your sister so she knows of your intentions.”

Jamie swallowed at the reminder, hoping to rid the dryness from his mouth. “I thank you again.”

“For what it’s worth, I’ll do what I can to ensure Brienne’s safety in your absence.”

Jamie smiled. “Do one better and order her away from here.”

“I’ve been surrounding by woman like her all my life, she won’t go anywhere.”

“There is no other woman like her.” The words tumbled from his mouth, the truth in them resolute. “If by some twist of fate Cersei wins this war, Brienne needs to be as far away from that forsaken city as possible. She knows about our relationship, and if she gets her claws into Brienne, I fear…” He stopped his mind from going there, the thoughts too bleak.

“I’ll do what I can.” Jon promised. For once Jamie trust the word of another man. At the very least Jon was honourable enough to stay true to his word.

He only prayed it would not come to that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note - I've done a bit of research into marriage in Westeros and couldn't find any ceremony that would really fit with my version of events so I'm just winging the whole marriage thing! Pretty sure people could just literally claim each other as their spouse ( a real practice in English history) but would have been more complicated for those with land, wealth etc so I wanted to go with something quick, but would be on record if that makes sense. Don't want anyone in the story to say that aren't truly married because that would hurt my heart. 
> 
> . Anyway, hope it won't detract from the story :)


	15. The Wedding

Nerves bubbled in Brienne’s stomach, floating pockets of air that seemed intent on invading every part of her body. The sensation was odd, almost unrecognisable. It had been a long time since she had experience anxiety on such a level. Though she supposed it was only natural given that she was to get married in a matter of moments.

Waiting inside Jon Snow’s tent for word to be sent to her, all she could do was try to calm her racing mind. An impossible feat. There was too much to worry about.

Jamie had made the arrangements, leaving her for short intervals throughout the day. As soon as he left her sight she had sought out a sparring partner to distract her from their inevitable parting. It had worked marginally; at moments she could forget that she would be torn from her husband less than a day after being wed.

In the end she had given up with that tactic, each time she remembered a tidal of emotion detonated inside of her, so violent that she could buckle under the pressure. It was as though the world was crumbling beneath her feet and she had no control. No power to prevent the disaster from occurring.

Brienne stood straight, wiping all hopeless thoughts from her mind. She was marrying the man she loved; she had to bask in the joy for however long she was able. Smoothing the creases from her worn tunic, she found that she was exastatic that they were marrying in such an informal ceremony. There would be few eyes staring at her, she wasn’t expected to stand around for hours on end.

No dress. No one had demanded that she find an ill-fitting dress and wear it only to be gawped at by a bunch of idiots. That was certainly in her favour. The only regret she had was that her father was unable to attend.

Jamie had told her the intimate ceremony would be attended by only Jon, Ser Davos and the septon.

Gods, she was to be married.

It was almost impossible to digest. All of her life she had been largely against the idea, unbending when it came to the potential suitors that her father had thrown her way. But she recognised now, with hindsight, that it wasn’t marriage itself that she was opposed to. It was marrying a man who was unable to understand her.

Whilst Jamie had many qualities that she could certainly live without, he understood her on a level that no one else did. She liked to think that she had the same knowing of him. _Soul mates. Fated._ She could believe no other explanation when she considered all they had been through to get to this point.

Their journey was unlikely, unbelievable in many ways. At first glance they were a bad match in every way – visually, morally, personality – they should never have worked. But astonishingly, they did. Brienne couldn’t claim it was effortless, because it had taken a lot to trust him enough to allow herself to vulnerable to him, but it had always been worth it.

And now, she was to marry him.

It was wonderful, insanity and terrifying. Marrying him when she may never lay eyes on him again after tomorrow. Deep inside there was a small part of her that screamed in frustration; it told her to hold onto this last piece of herself, that she was foolish to give him everything when there were no guarantees that she would see him again.

Following that thread of uncertainty would be pointless. She was already lost to him. Her heart had been his for years, since those first months of meeting. Losing him would cause no less pain if she refused to marry him.

But it hurt, the pain a cruel fist squeezing around her heart, because she could not look to the future. She could not allow happiness to fully take hold. It hurt, because as much as she wished she could enjoy the wedding, a sense of terror overshadowed it.

Jamie was giving himself to Cersei, and she would have no way of knowing what was happening. Whether he was alive or dead, whether Cersei had manipulated him into her bed –

Brienne almost gagged, the thought making her physically ill. Her hand came to her mouth as she bent at the waist. Surely Jamie would remain true to his vows, he wouldn’t allow himself to be used that way.

She should have married him back at Winterfell. They had wasted too much time, both avoiding their feelings for each other, her lack of faith in him; all of it seemed insignificant now that she was losing him and losing him in such a harsh way.

Ser Davos entered the tent with a broad smile, the grin disappearing when he saw her distress. “Lass, are you alright?”

She shook her head pitifully, loathing herself for displaying weakness is front of him yet again. “I thought I could do this, but it’s too much. He will leave, he’ll go back to her and I shall never see him again.”

Davos placed an awkward hand on her shoulder. “Take a breath. You’ve worked yourself into knots.”

She closed her eyes, battling tears. Fucking tears, why were they so persistent of late? “I don’t think I can do this.”

“You don’t have to if it’s not what you want.”

Brienne looked at him sharply. “I want it, of course I want it.”

“Then what’s the problem?” He asked in a reasonable tone that irked her.

Her hands flew up in a fit. “Everything. I’m worried as soon as he sets eyes on her, everything we have will be undone. I’m worried that she’ll kill him out of spite. I worry what state he’ll be in if I do ever get him back. I’m furious that I can’t just enjoy this time, that we can’t make plans for the future. And what if we do make it through this and he realises that I’m not what _he_ wants?”

Her breath was heaving by the time her outburst was finished. She was mortified that her control had slipped. “I’m sorry that was…”

“Lass, shut up. Under ordinary circumstances, it’s normal for brides to have doubts. We both knowing that these are far from ordinary circumstances. Do you want to marry him?”

“Yes,” She said without hesitation.

“Do you believe he loves you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you believe he will remain true to you?”

Her heart skipped a beat. “I’m no Cersei.”

Davos chuckled, “You’re certainly not and I mean that entirely as a compliment. Brienne, you’re an extraordinary woman. You need to know that. Feel it. My sense for bullshit it pretty fucking accurate in my old age; the man loves you. If I thought any differently, I’d be smuggling you out of this camp rather than walking you to his arms.”

A small smile formed on her face, “You’ve got a way with words.”

“I’ve no time for talking in circles.” She took his offered arm, “Now, are you ready to get married?”

Yes, she absolutely was.

 

They were married beneath the stars.

As soon as her eyes locked onto to Jamie’s, so filled with love, all the insecurities and doubts melted away into nothing. Everything - everyone – else faded into the background. He was all she could see.

Since leaving her an hour earlier he had washed, his handsome features free of the dirt that had become commonplace on their journey south. His dark blonde hair had grown a fair bit over the weeks and was brushed away from his face the way that she liked it.

Those eyes had often mocked her in the past where full of adoration, glowing in the moonlight. Her hands itched to touch him, touch him anywhere, just to ensure that he was flesh and blood.

He was her anchor and when he gave the promises a man gave his wife, the emotion was impossible to contain. The intimacy was reminiscent of those moments before the battle at Winterfell, when he had knighted her. The words filled her with overwhelming joy; her breath snagging with the power of it.

Her own vows were given in a low voice, so clogged with feeling that she could barely get them out. On the occasion that she had imagined her ceremony, she had been stiff. Stunted by overwhelming dread and panic. It was so far removed from what she felt now. She was happy, so incredibly happy.

The kiss sealing their promises to each other was brimming with desire. Soon they would be forced to separate, but in that moment they were consumed only with one another. It communicated all their hopes and fears, their dreams and nightmares. How much they both wished that tomorrow would not come.

Brienne ran her fingertips over his jaw, his lips an irresistible temptation that she had to touch again. Excitement pulsed through her. They would all night loving each other, creating memories they could both keep close to their heart in hard times.

Showing affection in the presence was difficult for her, but she pushed it aside. “I love you, husband.”

His white teeth flashed, “I love you too, wife.”

They took more moment, simply looking into each other’s eyes. Prolonging the first seconds of marriage. She would remember the happiness she felt, that shone in his expression, for the rest of her life. In the morning, when she thought she couldn’t bear the pain, she would conjure this image in her mind.

Ser Davos cough indelicately, gaining their attention. He smiled, “Congratulations to the both of you.”

“Yes,” Jon seconded, “Congratulations. I’m glad we could make this happen for you.”

“Thank you.” Brienne said, hoping they would understand that she meant for _all_ the help they had given. The pair had been generous with their supplies and their time when she was aware they held no friendly feelings towards Jamie.

Jon nodded. “Davos and I have been discussing tomorrow. He knows a few routes in and out of the city that may be of use if you can get away from Cersei undetected.”

Davos handed Jamie a piece of paper. “Memorise that. No doubt she’ll search you once she has you in her grasp.”

Hope swelled before Brienne could halt it. The secret routes Davos had given Jamie would only be in play if Cersei stuck to her word and let Tyrion free or … if she killed him. Leaving Tyrion after going through all the effort to get him back was senseless.

But the information gave Jamie a chance.

“We’ll leave you be now.” Jon said with a quiet understanding. “I’ll see to it you’re left alone for the night.”

Jamie took his offered hand. “Thank you. If I live through the next months, I’ll owe you a debt.”

“Consider it paid. You could have remained in King’s Landing at your sister’s orders, but you chose to help us.”

Jamie’s eyes touched Brienne. “There was no choice to make. I just needed to accept and leave the past behind me.”

“I’m glad you did. If only more people could do the same.” With a muted smile, he left the small clearing.

Davos looked after him, expression troubled. “All he wants is to be left alone.”

“I pray that he finds peace.” Brienne replied sincerely. He was a good man in a world that did not thank him for it. “Thank you for your information.”

He tipped his head. “I hope that it helps. My smuggling days are over, but it’s useful to remain knowledgeable about such things. Anyway, I’ll be off. Have a good evening.” Jamie raised his brows at the blatant tone whilst Brienne broke into a laugh. The septon, who she had already forgotten about, walked away with Davos, chuntering about improper behaviour.

Finally alone, she fell into Jamie’s arm, content to just be held for the time being. “I’m finding it difficult to comprehend that we’re actually married.” She said into his ear.

“Regrets already?” He teased.

“No.”

Jamie chuckled, his warm breath dampening her skin. “Good. I hope you rested well today, because you’re not going to be sleeping for very long tonight. I want you in everyway that I can have you. I want to hear you cry my name as I spill inside of you.”

“You’ve heard that before.” She pointed out, though her body was already preparing itself for the onslaught of sensations. Her core clenched at his words, anticipation washing through her.

His mouth sucked gently on her throat. “This time you’ll be my wife.”

_Wife._

Her entire being jumped at the title, the unbridled possession in it. Perhaps she should have put him in his place, but she had no desire to. If she was his, then he was hers. With Jamie she knew she was entering a partnership.

“And you’ll be my husband.”

“I love the sound of that.” He took her mouth in an uncontrolled rush of movement, his body straining against hers, cock hard, seeking out her warmth. “We need to get back to the tent unless your suddenly alright with exhibitionism.”

Linking her hand with his, Brienne tugged him along.

Their tent awaited them.

 


	16. The Goodbye

Urgency spurred Jamie on, his body shaking with the force of it. Reaching the small tent they’d called home for the passed few days, they flew inside, lips meeting in a clash of passion. As soon as he’d set eyes on Brienne walking towards him with a shy look in her eye, he’d known that his desire would be uncontrollable tonight. She had given him a home, a family that he could be proud of. A priceless gift that infused him with gratitude and love.

Brienne tugged on his shirt, swiftly pulling it over his head. He repeated her move, needing to feel her warm flesh against his. She placed her hands on his chest, running her fingers through the course hair that sat there. Having her hands pet him in such a way was indescribable. She was guarded with her affection, but with him, she was open, knowing that her touch would always be welcome.

With a mischievous smile, she dropped to her knees, helping him free from the rest of his clothing. His cock stood proudly between them, desperate for relief.

Hand closing around him, she looked upwards, her startling blue eyes locking onto his. His whole body jerked when she took his hard length in her mouth. She had done it a few times before, each time her skill improving at a rapid speed which was sure to kill him.

Taking her cues from his responses, she expertly used her tongue to caress his cock. She alternated between gentle seduction and swallowing him whole, wringing deep moans of satisfaction from his lips.

“Brienne.” The half-protest was weak at best.

Her eyes shone back at him. He should stop her, he _should._ But her hot mouth enveloping him was an enticement that he found irresistible. It was a few minutes before common sense finally edging itself into his consciousness. Just in time.

Fisting her hair, he gently pulled her away from his aching cock, wanting to be inside of her when he found release. Connected. Using the grip he had in her hair, he guided her from the ground, into a position he could more easily access her mouth. The fire in his blood demanded she gave him everything. That he could not stop until she herself became alight with need.

A sob of his name from her lips and his control vanished. He propelled them towards the bed, the breath leaving their lungs in a rush when they tumbled onto the soft surface together. Ravenous, Jamie stripped Brienne down to her smallclothes, loving the way her muscles contracted beneath his touch.

There was satisfaction in knowing that he would bring her pleasure, the warrior woman who rarely let herself run free.

He took a moment to remove the blasted golden hand that was more of a hindrance than help, before settling between her bare thighs. Candlelight cast shadows over her flushed skin. Jamie hardly knew where to begin; the sight before him more erotic than any his imagination could have conjured.

“You’re beautiful.” Once she would have denied his words, years of conditioning winning against the truth ringing in his tone.

Now she simply said, “You made me feel it.”

“And you make me feel worthy.”

He pressed a kiss to her jaw, to her nape, all the way down to her delectable breasts, taking his time with each dusty rose bud. She moaned when he scraped his teeth against the pebbled tips, rolling her hips in raw need. Searching for him.

Jamie continued his assault on her nipples, trailing his hand down her body, passing the band of the material covering what was his. The evidence of her arousal coated his fingers as he circled her entrance and then her clit. Her responsiveness was a drug; the more she displayed her pleasure, the more addicted he became to seeing it.

Sensing that she was at the end of her patience, he slipped two fingers inside of her. Biting her lower lip, she worked with him, grinding against his hand to unleash a swift orgasm that wracked through her body. Jamie caught her lips with his, stealing the gasps of breaths that left her mouth.

She brought her hands up to his face and deepened the kiss.

He would forget nothing of this night, replaying each second in his mind for all eternity. Memorise the feel of supple flesh in his grasp, the way she whispered his name.

“Now.” She demanded.

Helpless to defy her in anything, especially this, Jamie aligned their bodies and slammed into her, causing them to cry out in unison. There was no one else but her. Nothing else mattered except her love. She would be inside of him always.

Her snails scratched his back and thighs as she urged him to hasten his speed, his little vixen impatient. Her restless body thrust into his, allowing him to slide even deeper into the core of her. Her inner walls constricted around him, the sensation so much more than he could ever imagine.

Many times, Jamie took her right to the edge, teasing her desperate body mercilessly, enjoying her mewls followed by the string of curses when he retreated again. It took an iron will to bring her so close to the brink and withdraw, but he never wanted their joining to end.

She moaned helplessly. She could do nothing but take what he gave her, allow him to worship her body as she deserved.

“Jamie!” She cried, half crazed with unfulfilled need. “Please.”

The plea shattered his resolve. He surged forwards, relentlessly pounding into her flesh. She enclosed him in arms as he hammered into her, his spine bucking when her channel clamped down on him in a vice-like grip that wrung his seed from his cock.

“Fuck. Brienne. Fuck.” He was mindless, mad. Overwhelmed. Shaking.

Brienne trembled beneath him, the wracks milking at his sensitive cock. His mouth came down on her collarbone as he tried to calm his thrashing heartbeat. She kissed his forehead, his lips. It seemed they were unable to quite let each other go.

Jamie wasn’t sure how long passed before he had the energy to move into position next to her. All he knew was that he had to keep his eyes on her. Laying on their sides, facing each other, they shared a moment of understand.

His wife’s chin trembled. Tears dropped onto the bed. She closed her eyes, bringing her hands up to her face. Jamie took her hands in his, sealing a kiss to the centre of her palm.

Tears burned his own eyes, Brienne’s breakdown affecting him deeply. Hacking away at his soul. “I wish I could bear this with strength, but it is killing me to cause you pain. You’re the one person I cannot stand to hurt.”

“It is not your choice.” Her voice cracked, “It almost makes it worse. I hate that she could force you to…”

His own voice shook with emotion. “I won’t lay with her. I promise you.”

Brienne’s body shuddered in his arms. “If it comes down to that or your life, I would rather you live.” The words were torn from her, as if she it caused her physical agony to utter them.

“You’re my wife. The woman I’ve chosen to spend my life with. I won’t betray you. I can’t.” He would be nothing if he did.

“Jamie,” she protested, “I value your life above all else. Please just stay alive. No matter what she asks of you.”

He closed his eyes, hating his fucking sister for continuing to sabotage him. “I would not forgive myself. Don’t ask that of me, Brienne. It’s too much.”

“It’s nothing you haven’t done before.” She said quietly. “Do you think that I want to say these words to you? Give you permission to join with another woman after what we’ve just shared? It breaks my heart to think of you with her.”

“I won’t do it.” He vowed, furious that she would challenge him on this. Of all things.

Brienne pulled away from him, sitting, the sheet pooling to her lap. “This is not the time to develop a set of rigid morals. Survive.”

Anger left him when he studied her ravaged face, understood the toll that this was taking on her. “This conversation is pointless. She won’t kill me, I think she’s already proved herself incapable of that. I don’t want to spend our last hours arguing – it’s exactly what she wants, to drive a wedge between us and I refuse to allow that to happen.”

For a moment she was unresponsive. After a few seconds, she laid back down and burrowed into his side. “I’m sorry. I’m behaving selfishly, letting my emotions overrule sense.”

He had to smile at that. “Hmm, my sensible Brienne, being led by her emotions. Whatever are we to do about that?”

“Maybe we should get drunk.”

He laughed, stroking her hair. “I think that would only heighten your emotions.”

“You’re probably right. I’ve never been so emotional in all my life.” She said scathing.

“You’ve never had to navigate a relationship before; it’s normal for feel things more deeply. You don’t need to hide from me, I won’t run in fear of some tears.”

“And if you anger me so much I throw an object at your head?”

“I’ll have probably deserved it.”

“Yes, most certainly.” She agreed, laughter in her voice.

Despite the circumstance, joy surged through him. “Where do you want to live once everything has settled?”

She was thoughtful for a few seconds. “I would still like to visit my father first, that should give us time to decide.”

“No doubt he’s going to hate me.” It was a fact of his life he’d learnt to accept. His reputation proceeded him everywhere he went. Lord Selwyn would hate him for a number of reasons on sight, the biggest being defiling his virgin daughter.

“He’ll be glad that I’ve married. It was greatly disappointing to him when I couldn’t make a match.”

“I think you’ve married the one man he’ll object to.” Jamie said, irked by the prospect. Hopefully the man would at least give him a chance.

“I haven’t listened to my father for a long time. I want his blessing, but I don’t need it to be happy with you.” They shared a smile before her eyes watered again. “I’m sorry, I’m know I’m being weak. I thought I could banish it from my mind for a time, but every time I think to the future, I wonder if you’re going to be there with me.”

His heart was being crushed, “I love you. I will do everything humanly possible to get myself out of her clutches once and for all. She will be gone from this world soon, the Dragon Queen will see to that. If I can hold on until then…”

“She hates you.” Brienne interrupted, her distaste for the woman evident. “I’m going to be here, fighting for your life on this side of the war. Maybe Jon can persuade her to spare you.”

“Perhaps I can use Davos’ secret exits before she reaches Cersei. Torturing ourselves with ‘what if’s’ won’t make this easier. I trust my own judgement, I trust yours. We’re good together, we can find a way through this. I need you to believe that the way you’ve believed in yourself all of your life. You’ve always defied the odds and we can do that once again.”

She let out a shaky breath. “You’re right. You’re my blindspot, my weakness. In the past, I’ve only really had to worry about keeping myself alive, and it’s more difficult that I realised trying to compartmentalise my feelings whilst staying focused on an objective.”

“Your objective is to stay safe. I’ll have limited knowledge of what is happening beyond the walls once I enter the city. I won’t know if you’re safe.”

She touched his jaw. “I’ll be safe here.”

“Stay close to Davos. He likes you and he’s wilier than anyone gives him credit it for.”

Her brow arched. “I hope you’re not suggesting I need a man to take care of me.”

Jamie scoffed at the ridiculousness of the idea. “No, Brienne. But you do need friends here, people to watch your back.”

“Fine.” She conceded. Red framed her eyes, a sign of the tears that had fallen. A reminder of how fragile she was this eve. How fragile he was.

For the rest of the night, he would give her more pleasure that she knew possible. He would make her forget what awaiting them. He would get lost in her and make himself forget.

 

Morning came.

Brienne was exhausted from making love all night, but beneath that was a bone-deep weariness that no amount of sleep would fix. She watched Jamie dress, conceding to his wish that they say their goodbye now. He said if she watched him walk away from camp, he may not find the strength to do what needed to be done.

Naked, she wrapped herself in the bedsheet and walked over to him to aid with strapping on his ugly golden hand. “I’m going to get a new one made for you.”

“Good, I really do despise this fucking thing.”

Brienne smiled, keeping her emotions on a tight leash. She refused to cause him unnecessary pain by breaking down on him again. The intensity of their joining had left her vulnerable with no defences. He needed her strong now; she would not show him how savagely agony clawed at her insides.

“I love you.” She told him steadily. “I have every faith that we will meet again and I will do everything in my power to ensure that it is so.”

“As will I. I love you more than anything in this world, wife. Do not forget that.”

Their foreheads met. Brienne inhaled the scent of him, knowing it could be a long time before she had the opportunity to do so again. Jamie’s hand came to the back of her head, pulling her in for a final kiss. Brienne poured all of her love into the act, conveying the depth of her feeling. There were no words that would remedy their hurt, they'd said their true goodbye last night.

He drew back, speaking softly. “I must go.”

It took great effort to detached herself from him. “I’ll see you soon.” It was a promise. She would storm into King’s Landing herself before leaving him to rot there.

He brushed a tender kiss to her lips.

“I love you, Brienne.” His voice wobbled and with those words he was gone.

She was alone.

Time halted, the beat of her heart clattering loudly in her ears.

He was gone now, she could break.

Legs seeming to disappear, she fell to the ground and sobbed her heart out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made myself too sad :( Why did I do this?!?


	17. Brother's Reunited

“You’re a fool.” Tyron’s voice lashed at him from the other side of the steel bars. The scene was all too familiar, though no less painful because of it. “She was never going to let me go. You’ve ruined your life for no reason.”

Jamie slid to the ground, resting his back to the cold stone wall. “I had to try.”

“No, you did not.” His brother sighed. “Have you seen her?”

“I’ve been here for two days locked in a room under guard. I’ve yet to be graced with her presence.” He’d been surprised when the guards had led him to Tyrion’s cell, breaking the monotony of isolation. “Her self-control is worrisome.”

“I agree. This won’t end well.”

Jamie scrubbed his hand over his face. “You look better than I expected.” No obvious injuries or signs of hunger.

“I’ve been left alone for the most part. I’d wager I’m to be a pawn in her games against you. Gods, I don’t want to talk about her. Tell me what’s been happening whilst I’ve been locked in this cell.”

Shifting position so that he could see his brother better, Jamie began to tell him all he knew of his Queen’s plans. Granted, his knowledge was limited.

Tyrion took it all in, soaking in every detail. “She was furious when she discovered more knew about Jon’s heritage. She had Varys executed for plotting against her.”

“What?” Jamie’s head snapped up, “There has been no talk of it.”

“Well I can’t imagine Jon would like to openly acknowledge her ruthless streak. It certainly didn’t sit well with me and I was the one to inform her of Varys’ betrayal.” Regret laced his words. “He was probably my closet friend and I got him burnt alive. One of the least desirable ways to go.”

“And she thanked you for it by leaving you here to rot. She ordered Jon to keep me from making the exchange. Tell me brother, why do you think she’s any better suited to rule that Cersei? Than those before her that have done a piss-poor job? She’s entitled, verging the edge of an abyss that there will be no returning from once she falls. I’ll be forever remembered as the Kingslayer, but everyone conveniently forgets that I had a front row seat to her father’s descent into madness. She has the same look in her eye. For the sake of my own future, I won’t say that it’s inevitable that we end up like our parents - I would slit my own throat if I became a replica of Tywin – but she wholly believes in everything her brother told her about their great house. She believes she saviour and that can be more dangerous than anything.”

“I’m not oblivious to her faults.” Tyrion said between clenched teeth. “But I have chosen to put my faith in her.”

Jamie shrugged, unwilling to argue with him in their current situation. “Only time will tell. We could both be dead by the time she comes to power.”

“You have no intention of dying – if I’m honest I’ve never seen you more alive which is peculiar given that we’re both fucked.”

A broad smile filled Jamie’s face. “I have a wife to get back to.”

Tyrion’s grin matched his own. “You should have begun with that news. I don’t know how you managed to persuade her, but I’m glad that you did.”

“So am I. So am I.” It was a mystery to him, just how had he convinced her that his feelings were true? He had done nothing out of the ordinary.

Tyrion’s expression dropped, worried. “How is she?”

A lump formed in Jamie’s throat at the question, it transporting him back to their last night together. He shook his head, arms resting on his knees. “Watching the strongest woman I know break in front of my eyes… I know she’ll weather it, but she’s in pain. If anything could make me despise Cersei, it is that. Not to mention the fucking mercenaries she sent after me, instructed to defile Brienne in front of me before killing her.”

“You stopped them.”

Jamie smiled, amused by Tyrion’s faith in him. “She stopped them, but she was injured. She’s healed for the most part.”

“Good. Jon will look out for her.”

“She incites respect and honour in those around her. I have no doubt she’ll be safe in camp now that everyone has became used to her ways.”

Tyrion’s intelligent eyes studied him. “I love you for trying to save me, but should have stayed with her. My situation is hopeless – even if I were out of this cell, I’ve made choices that I fear could doom us all. If the opportunity to escapes presents itself, you are going to take it.”

“I have enough sins on my conscience.”

“And so have I.” Tyrion roared, drawing the attention of the guards stationed down the hallway. Lowering his voice, he continued, “You have a chance to be happy, truly happy. I want that for you.”

Jamie considered his words, more conflicted that he ever recalled being. Tyrion was his family, the younger brother he should have done more to protect, but thoughts of Brienne consumed him night and day. She was his chosen family, the one person who never asked for a thing in return for her love.

“What do I do?” He whispered in the darkness, so lost.

“Get back to your wife.”

He rubbed a thumb across his brow. “You know it’s not that simply.”

“It can be.” Tyrion stepped forward, wrapping his small hands around the bars. “I’m a dead man. I’ve survived longer than I should have. Cersei will never allow to me to walk out of this city alive. Don’t waste your time, don’t destroy yourself for an impossible outcome.”

Before he could respond, the guards approached, heavy footed, stone faced. “Time’s up.”

Aware that it may the last time he saw Tyrion, Jamie clasped his hands thought the bars that separated them. Tyrion levelled him with a steady look. “Don’t fuck this up.”

An echo of a smile formed on Jamie’s face. “ I’ll try my best. I love you, brother.”

“Go on now.” Tyrion instructed, his voice wavering slightly.

With no choice, Jamie was ushered away from his brother between the two broad shouldered guards. He was marched back to his room, catching the eyes of servants and guests alike. Once servant in particular, a young blonde-haired girl, shot him a startled look. Jamie frowned at her, sure that he’d never seen her face before.

Returned to the four walls of his comfortable prison, Jamie struggled to keep his composure, shaken by the visit to Tyrion. It forced him to face the reality he found himself in. He was trapped in a city with no allies. He had left Brienne. Cersei was biding her time until the despair weighed him down and threatened to break his resolve.

He wouldn’t allow that to happen.

Lowering himself to the chair by the hearth, he conjured Brienne’s face in his mind.

She would get him through this.

 

Hours, or maybe minutes later, the door to his room swung open. Jamie remained seated, using the opportunity to examine his sister. Still beautiful. Now he realised it was a skin deep beauty that failed to reach the heart of her.

A crown was perched on her head and the statement of power was unmistakable. She strode into the room like a queen, a rigid expression on her face, her dress falling behind her. The sight of her was so familiar, but he felt as though he were looking at a stranger.

If she thought he would bow and beg, she would be sorely disappointed. Her brows arched at his blatant display of disrespect.

“You’re looking well.” She commented in the condescending tone that he hated. If he spoke, he would unleash an assault of insults from his mouth. It baffled him how long he’d remained chained to her side, how devoted he’d once been. How blind. How selfish. How twisted they had both become.

“What would you like me to say? No doubt you’ve already decided what you want to hear.” That was her forte. Listening only to what she wanted to hear.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I just want a conversation with the man I love.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.” He replied, severity dripping from every syllable. “Do you ever consider what I want?”

She turned to the side, clasping her hands at the waist. “You left me. My anger is justified, yours is unfounded.”

Jamie shot from his seat, incredulous. Furious. “Unfounded? Let’s dispense with the games and the lies. Your spies reported to you that I was travelling with Brienne. Did you really think I would come running back to you if you had her killed? Let me put this to you as plainly as I can – I love her. I will never choose you again.”

Her face twisted in fury, her self-possession slipping to show the woman beneath the pretty face. “She’s an ugly beast. You don’t love her.”

“Yes, I do. Accept it to save yourself a lot of time and energy.”

“You are a selfish bastard. Whilst I lay here losing our child, you were off fucking another woman!”

A sigh. “I’m sorry you lost the child, but it changes nothing between us.” Did it make him a monster to be relieved at the confirmation? There were no ties to her now. “We’re toxic together, can’t you see that? I’ve experience true love with Brienne. I don’t say that to hurt you, but to give you the truth. Let me go and we can both be free from this hell we’ve created.”

Taking a step towards him, she grasped his tunic desperately. “Jamie, I need you now more than ever. An army surrounds out city, our home and I need you to defend it. The dragon bitch is coming to kill me, will you stand by and let her?”

Her manipulation flew over his head. He detached himself from her, putting distance between them. “You’ve made your choices.”

“She won’t let you live either. You killed her father.”

“What does that have to do with us? If the time comes, there will be nothing I can do against two grown dragons. Cersei, please. Stop this before I hate you even more than I already do.”

Charged with fury, she pushed at his chest. “I hate you! You promised you would never leave me and you did. I needed you here.”

“You don’t need me. You have Euron Greyjoy.” He countered. Once he had been jealous, now he just wanted her attention directed away from him.

“Do you care that I spread my legs for him?” She asked in a calculating tone.

Jamie considered his next words, knowing if he gave an inch, she would take a mile. “I care that you feel like you have to.”

“You still care about me.” She whispered, caressing his cheek.

He turned away from her, already tired of her constant manipulations. “We have a long history. There will always be a part of me that cares, but I don’t love you as a man loves his wife.”

Her nails dug into his upper arm as she whirled him around. “Wife? Please don’t tell me you’ve married the cow.”

Jamie closed his eyes. It took all of his willpower to keep from striking her for insulting Brienne again. Cersei felt safe enough to come into his room without a guard; he could kill her. Save them all a lot of trouble. But if he did it, he wouldn’t survive the night. Brienne would be left in the world without him.

“Jamie!” She whined, the sound grating on his abraded nerves. “Tell me you haven’t married her.”

He looked straight into her eyes. “She is my wife.”

A scream tore from her lips before she pushed at him. “How could you do that to me?” Completely unhinged, she battered at his torso. Gods, he never seen her like this in all their years together. “You will come back to me. You will.”

“I won’t.” He swore, disregarding the physical pain her blows caused. Nothing compared to the emotional agony she’d put him through by forcing him to leave Brienne. “I won’t betray my wife.”

“Then you will betray you’re precious fucking brother.” She spat, stepping away from his, a sinister glint entering her eyes. “I’m sure you noticed how well he’s been cared for so far. That can change astonishingly quickly if you do not give me what I want.”

“You’re a monster.” He muttered, horror dawning on him. An empty void began to erode his body from inside out.

Her expression altered in an instant, from wrecked to celebratory. “You have three days to mull it over. We both know I follow through on my - threats? Should I call it a threat? You wanted to do away with all the lies so I suppose we’ll just call it a threat. I always get my way Jamie, you should have remembered that. Do you think your wife will still want you when she gets word that you’re warming my bed?”

Stricken, Jamie could only stare after her as she calmly exited the room.

Roaring in fury, he kicked the chair he had been seated at across the room, destruction the only action that would soothe the rage burning inside of him. Once he began, he couldn’t stop. Paintings were thrown in the fire, furniture tipped onto its side.

When there was nothing else to destroy, he punched his fist into the wall. Again and again. Venting all of his wrath into a physical pain that was much easier to deal with.

What was he supposed to do? He could see no way forward without betraying one of the two people he loved about all else.


	18. Day Three

Brienne permitted herself a day to remain in the tent, to get lost if the grief that swept through her body in a strong current. It did nothing except leave her with a headache, hunger pains and sense of helplessness. The next, she ambled around camp in an empty shell. The men gave her a wide berth, apart from Davos who tried to engage with her multiple times. She simply didn’t have the energy to converse, or to think beyond the next moment. There was relief in the absence of emotion.

On the third day, she woke with a fire in her belly. A renewed purpose. After a restless night of little sleep, she had come to the conclusion that she had transformed into someone unrecognisable and she refused to be the woman who wallowed in self-pity, too consumed by pain to be of any use. Jamie had faith in her. In them. She had to remember that, and cease with the destructive thought patterns. Harness her inner strength and smooth over the cracks of fragility.

Feeling more herself than she had in days, Brienne stepped out of her tent, immediately taken back by the flurry of activity that buzzed around her. Men were running all over the place in no discernible direction, arms full of provisions, weapons.

She grabbed the arm of a dark-haired man, halting his feet. “What is going on?”

“The Dragon Queen is on her way. Days earlier than expected.”

“Why?” Brienne demanded, concerned about what her arrival would mean for Jamie.

The man scowled at her, “How the fuck would I know?” Launching himself out of her grasp, he dashed off into the mass of panicked men.

Determined to find out what in the hells was going on from a reliable source, Brienne went in search of Ser Davos, receiving an unsettling undercurrent as she walked through the camp. Luckily, she caught Davos striding out of his tent.

His face was tight with tension. “Lady Brienne. Daenerys is on her way. She sent a message ahead telling him to expect her sometime this morning. You can join me, I’m going to talk to him. See what I can do.”

Brienne nodded and hurried along with Davos, urgency in the air. She was grateful of his kindness, his compassionate heart. They found Jon talking with a contingent of mean, reeling off a list of instructions. They waited for him to finish, following him to his tent when he gave the signal.

Lines of stress were etched onto his young face, making him seem many years older than she knew him to be. Brienne didn’t envy his position in the slightest.

“Have you any information?” Davos asked, filling the silence. He had a way about him, a directness that put Brienne at ease.

Jon appeared marginally calmed by it to. “No.” He exhaled slowly. “But I think it’s safe to assume that she won’t wait any longer to attack the city.”

Dread flooded her body. “Does she know about Jamie?”

“I haven’t told her, but who knows? She’ll find out eventually. I doubt she’ll care until she finds him by Cersei’s side.”

“And what does she plan to do exactly?” Brienne asked, filled with frustration. She wanted answers so that she could find a solution.

“Use the dragons.” Jon’s voice was resigned, empty. “Cersei has the scorpions, but Dany is convinced she can out manoeuvre them. They take a long time to reload. Whilst she fights from above, I’ll lead the men to the city gates.”

“You won’t ride Rhaegal?” Brienne questioned, finding it odd after watching him ride the dragon at the battle of Winterfell.

“No.” His tone was final telling her there was a lot more to the story she knew nothing about. Though she would guess that the relationship between Jon and Daenerys had broken down. Honestly, she had more important things to worry about.

“And what of Jamie? Do you think she will kill him?”

Jon’s dark eyes met hers. “Yes, I do. He killed her father. The fact that Cersei failed to keep her word and release Tyrion will only make her more suspicious.”

More offended on Jamie’s behalf that she should have been, she could not hold her tongue. “He was mad. I won’t condone his actions, but there were other factors at play that seemed to have become lost in history. And as for her assumptions that he plots with Cersei, they are ludicrous. The Queen is paranoid.”

“She has reason to be with everyone plotting behind her back!” Jon shouted, unleashing his anger on Brienne. She stood her ground, refusing to flinch as he bellowed in her face. “Jamie Lannister had committed many sins, Brienne. Your love blinds you. I allowed him to make the exchange because I genuinely believe that he loves you and his brother, but it means little in the grand scheme of things. I have everyone to consider. He made his choice.”

“And what of your love? Does that not blind you? Sansa sent me after Arya because she fears what Daenerys will do if the issue of your claim to the throne is pushed beyond her control. Your family fears her. The people of Westeros fear her.”

Jon inched closer to her. “How many lives she did she save in Westeros by allying herself with us against the Night King?”

Davos stepped between them. “Calm down, the pair of you. Brienne, I suggest you go back to your tent. She doesn’t need the reminder that Jamie is in the city. I’ll let you know what is happening when I can. And Jon, don’t take your frustrations out on Brienne. You know full well how everyone around you feels about Daenerys.”

Jon stepped back, allowing Brienne to uncoil the tension from her body. Agitated, she walked away before she would say something else antagonistic that would do little for her cause. Her mind raced with a thousand thoughts. She had no doubts that Daenerys would kill Jamie if she found him within the city walls. She had been prepared to do it at Winterfell, and Brienne suspected the only reason she had stayed her hand was an attempt to court favour with Jon by accepting Sansa’s words.

By the time she got back to her tent, Brienne had calmed a little. Whilst she understood Jon’s position, she knew now she could not count on his aid. He was right in one thing; he had all of Westeros to consider. Her only priority was Jamie.

Time was running out.

She considered asking Davos to show her routes into the city. If she could get into the city perhaps she could help from the inside. No, that was the stupidest plan. She was too recognisable, she had no one to go for help in King’s Landing, never spending much time in the city.

If she ended up being caught by Cersei’s men, Jamie would kill her himself.

Nervous energy consumed her body making it impossible to sit still. In the past, she’d always found a way to stay in control. Remain calm no matter the danger that she faced. But this was entirely different. The worry for the man she loved was eating her up from the inside. She just needed time to stop to give her some breathing room.

It was impossible to keep from berating herself for the two days she had wasted basking in self-pity and then apathy. She knew better than to allow herself to become distracted when she should be focused on a goal of the utmost importance.

The question was, what in the hells was she going to do?

 

She spent hours picking apart her mind for the answers. None came.

A wave of light-headedness came over her, forcing her to take a seat on the bed, interrupting the relentless pacing she had done since arriving back from the disastrous meeting with Jon Snow. She needed to eat. It must have been days since she’d had a proper meal, her anxious stomach only allowing her to pick at food.

Rectifying that mistake, she left the tent in search of food, wolfing a few chucks of bread and some broth down. The effects were immediate, instantly making her feel better. Stronger. Still very much lost in her thoughts, it took her five full seconds to realise that someone followed her back into the tent.

Brienne whirled round, her eyes widening in sheer surprise. Arya Stark stood directly in front of her, her smaller body dressed in men’s clothing, a slight smile on her face. Relief washed through Brienne at the sight of the young woman, healthy and whole.

“You look terrible.” Arya remarked as plain as ever.

Brienne smiled softly. “I’ve had a trying few days.”

“I’ve heard.” The level expression broke into one filled with compassion. In an uncharacteristic gesture, Arya took Brienne’s hand in hers. “I’m sorry I couldn’t kill her before she caused you so much pain. There have been a few obstacles.”

Brienne squeezed the younger woman’s hand. “I’m just glad you’re alright. Where have you been? Have you spoken to Jon? How did you arrive here after us?”

A wry smile stretched across her face. “Oh, I arrived in King’s Landing a week or so ago. I’ve been gathering information.”

Brienne frowned, confused by the revelation. “What? You’ve been inside of the city? Of course you have. You can use other faces.”

Surprise touched Arya’s eyes. “Jon told you.”

“Well, yes. Sansa tasked me to find you, and Jon informed me that I was on a wild goose chase.” Brienne explained how she and Jamie had come to be reunited with Jon and Davos, her words stumbling when she spoke of their marriage.

Arya’s brows raised, mouth falling open. “You married Jamie Lannister?”

“Yes.”

“He’s with Cersei in the Red Keep.” Arya stated, watching Brienne’s expression carefully. “I knew you cared for him – I thought…it makes sense now. I saw him, but he was surrounding by guards. She has him confined to a room under lock and key.”

Brienne gripped Arya’s hands tighter. “You’ve seen him, is he alright?”

“Yes. He’s unharmed.” She rushed out. “I’ve been trying to draw as little attention to myself as possible so I haven’t been able to put together much. Tell me exactly what has happened.”

Brienne took a deep breath, a tiny flicker of hope sparking inside of her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was there ever any doubt that Arya was going to be in the thick of it? :)
> 
> We'll discover what she's been up to in the next chapter!


	19. Plans

 

 

“I left Winterfell alone, but I ran into the Hound close to King’s Landing. To keep it short, we infiltrated the city when the gates were open for the people Cersei allowed into to act as a buffer between her and Daenerys. You already know my objective and the Hound had unfinished business with his brother.”

“The Mountain.” Brienne murmured, picturing his massive frame in her mind. “I know of their history. The Mountain acts as Cersei’s personal bodyguard.”

“Yes, but there’s something wrong with him. From what I could gather, Qyburn did something to him – reanimated his body somehow. He can’t be killed by the usual means. The Hound tried and failed to kill him.”

“What happened?” Brienne asked, sensing Arya’s carefully hidden sorrow.

“We got into the Keep and the Hound challenged his brother, told me to go. I did, but I changed my mind. By the time I returned, there were dozens of solders surrounding the Cleganes and I couldn’t get close. The Hound ran him through with a sword, but it barely slowed the Mountain. He’s unnatural – it was a bloodbath.”

“The Hound is dead?” She feared she already knew the answer.

A sharp clip of the head from Arya. A dry swallow “Yes. I only got away because everyone else was so focused on the fight. After witnessing that, I knew I needed more information, so I used another face and started gathering it. The Mountain is always by her side. All of her food and wine is tested. She has done a good job of protecting herself. I’ve barely caught a glimpse of her. Perhaps I could get passed him to kill her, but contrary to popular belief I don’t have a death wish. I have things – people – to live for. I would never get out of there alive.”

Brienne bit her lip, thoughtful. “Can you get me into the city? I defeated the Hound, I can take his brother.”

Arya shook her head. “No, Brienne. He’s dead. There’s nothing left of the man, just an armoured shell capable of causing devastated damage. And you can’t just walk around the city, your ties to Jamie will make you a target.”

“I need to find a way to get him out before Daenerys attacks. If I’m inside the walls, I can wait until the time is right.” Frustration poured out of her. She knew made little sense, but she was becoming desperate. Every moment that ticked by, was a wasted one.

“There is a passage into the Keep.” Arya revealed, causing’s Brienne’s breath to hitch. “It’s built on a network of passages and tunnels, most of which are unusable. I’ve been exploring them, but they’re dangerous. Being inside the Keep is dangerous. After the Hound attacked, she tripped the presence of the guards. If someone were to go investigating, you could be found.”

“I’m of no use out here. Daenerys is on her way as we speak and Jon believes she will want to begin the attack on the city as soon as possible. The moment she does, there will be chaos. I can get Jamie out, Tyrion too, if he’s still alive.”

Arya’s expression gave nothing away. Blank now. “Tyrion is alive. I’ve heard the guards talking about him.”

“Once I free Jamie, we can go after Tyrion. Keeping an eye on her brothers should fall on her list of priorities when she is faced with two grown dragons and an army rushing the city.” Brienne paused, “I know you have no reason to care if Jamie lives or dies, but I do. He’s my husband, I shall love no other but him. I’m going to find a way into that keep, with or without your help.”

“And what if this is all a game to him? What if he is plotting with Cersei? You’d be risking your life for the vilest of men.”

“You said yourself he was under guard. She would have no reason to do that if was there willingly. She’s Queen, she could parade him around as her lover without consequence. He loves me.” She stated with absolute conviction. Her heart no longer held any doubts about that.

Arya was visibly torn, slipping from assassin to friend with ease. “For you sake, I hope that is true, but…”

“You don’t know him.” Brienne said simply. “If you trusted my judgement at Winterfell when he arrived without the army that was promised, you’ll trust it now. All I’m asking is for you to get me in. You don’t need to be involved any further that that. You should tell Jon you’re here and let Daenerys take care of Cersei. I doubt the Mountain will survive dragon fire.”

Brienne allowed the younger woman time to think. She was afraid of pushing too hard. Had Davos given Jamie that route out of the keep? Jamie had cleverly hidden the parchment from her.

“I will help you.” Arya spoke, interrupting her scattered thoughts. “You will follow my lead. I need to check the passage, make sure that it’s safe enough for you to navigate. Wait for Davos to come to you and find out what information you can about the Dragon Queen. Having knowledge of her plans will be of use to us. I’ll come back for you tonight. You’ll need supplies, provision. It could be days yet until she attacks. “

Relief caused her knees to weaken. She grasped Arya’s hand, her gratitude a palpable force. “Thank you.”

“I’m doing it for you, not him. He still has a long way to go to redeem himself.”

Brienne thought it best to not dispute her words. In her opinion, he had paid for the many mistakes he’d made. His punishment had been severe. She accepted that he had done wrong, she was not blind, but were his crimes any worse than those who constantly judged him? Her relationship with Jamie had taught her that there was no such thing as black and white, good or evil. Everyone was a shade of grey with hues of colours running through.

Arya smirked a little. “You’re really in love with him, aren’t you?”

No hesitation. “Yes.” There was no point denying it when it showed in every action, in every decision she made. She refused to hide her love for him, there was no honour in that.

She would stand by his side, now and always, proud, for everyone to see.

 

Staring into the crackling fire, Jamie sighed heavily, wondering if it were possible to die from boredom. On the rare occasion that he succeeded in diverting his attention away from the dire situation he had walked into, he was struck by how bored he was.

Spending weeks conversing with Brienne, laughing with her, playing with her, he found life without her was terribly dull. An ache that lodge itself right into his heart. A timid knock sounded, followed by the opening of the door. He disregarded the servant immediately, caring little who entered his domain unless it were Cersei.

Tomorrow she would come for him, force him to choose between his vows to Brienne and his brother’s life. Again, he inwardly cursed himself for being such a fucking idiot. Cersei had been correct in her assessment of him; he really was the stupidest Lannister.

A clearer mind would have argued that point. Feeling, emotion, had always ruled his heart. Sense rarely came into the decisions he made. Perhaps that did make him foolish when everyone around him were so adept at playing games, so calculating. He’d always despised that way of life and had no aptitude for it either.

A familiar voice spoke from behind him. “I’ve just spoken to your wife.”

Jamie’s head whipped around, astonished to find Arya Stark stood in the middle of his wrecked room. It took his mind a couple of seconds to catch up and remember the skills she possessed. Another time, different circumstances, he would have been impressed. But news of Brienne was in his grasp, stripping him of any other interest.

A thousand questions were on the tip of his tongue, but he began with the most important. “How is she?”

A unsettling blank expression sat on the girl’s face. “She wants me to get her into the keep.”

Utter dread crushed at his bones, blood leaving his face. “No. You can’t do that. Cersei will…she knows of our marriage. She’ll kill Brienne, but not before torturing her.”

A brief smile. “I can almost believe you care for her.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck what you believe. If _you_ care for her, you will deny her request.”

Arya walked around the room at a leisurely pace, picking up the items he had failed to smash, replacing them. Keeping him waiting. “I gave her my word that I would get her in. She’ll be hidden. She’s determined to come in after you. Daenerys arrived at Jon’s camp as I was leaving.”

He understood. “And she thinks the Dragon Queen will have my head is she finds me here, in her eyes confirming her assumptions that I’ve been plotting with Cersei.”

“Yes,” Arya agreed, “Brienne is probably right about that. I plan on killing your sister, would you accept help from me knowing that?” The question was a test, he recognised. The entire ‘conversation’ was a test with the objective to uncover his motives.

“I’ve known it for a while now.” He answered, evenly. “Brienne won’t be safe if she lives. Cersei is relentless once she has a goal in mind. I think she and the Dragon Queen are more alike than they would both admit.”

She continued to amble around the room, arms now behind her back. “It must have broken you into pieces to lose your sword hand.”

Jamie hurled her a look of pure distain. “It certainly wasn’t pleasant.” That was putting it mildly. It had broken him – his skill had been his identity for decades – but, it had also laid the foundations for him to change. Truly alter himself in a way that many never got the opportunity to.

“I can imagine.”

Fed up with her eerie manner and talking in circles, Jamie snapped. “You really can’t. Why did you come here? Just to gloat? If you’re not going to tell me anything useful, get out. I’m working to a deadline.”

She stilled, frowning. “Daenerys hadn’t given the order to attack yet.”

“She is the least of my concerns at this moment. Why haven’t you killed Cersei yet?” She clearly had the skill to blend in with the servants. If she succeeded, it would solve his most pressing problems. In the chaos of Cersei’s death, he could free Tyrion and try and escape the keep.

“The Mountain guards her. Always. You must have noticed there is something wrong with him. The Hound tried to kill him and failed. I’m not prepared to die killing Cersei, so I need to find a way to kill him.”

“He’s Qyburn’s creation. I suspect the answers you’re looking for lie with him.”

“Unfortunately, he’s almost as difficult to get to as Cersei.”

“You could simply wait for Daenerys to complete the task.” He pointed out.

“I have to be the one.” She murmured, the first sign of weakness she had shown. Her face clouded with something he’d never seen from her before – uncertainty.

Luckily for the pair of them, he didn’t have time to dig into the girl’s thoughts. It was time to lay his cards out on the table. “I need her dead by tomorrow.”

“Why?” She demanded, the question interrupting her inner demons.

Gods, was he really going to have this discussion with the Stark girl? “She wants us to go back to the way things were and if I don’t concede to her wishes, she will kill Tyrion. Or keep alive so she can bend me to her will in everything. I can’t be with her again and I can’t allow my brother to die.”

Arya blew out a breath, her shoulders relaxing a fraction.

He continued, “So you see I haven’t got time to waste with your judgements on my character. Daenerys may be close to the city, but there is no guarantee she will attack before Cersei forces me to choose.”

“I’m the only person who can help you.” Jamie sensed that gave her great satisfaction.

He, on the other hand, loathed to admit it. “Yes, I do. But Brienne doesn’t need to be a part of it.”

“If we don’t include her in our plans, she will find another way. If I bring her into the keep, she’ll be close. That is better than wandering the city, visible to all of Cersei’s informants. Besides, she’s an asset. She doesn’t need to be coddled.”

Humour touched his lips. “Did she tell you to say that?”

“No, she doesn’t know I’m talking to you. But it is true.” Her eyes penetrated his with an uncomfortable intensity. “I don’t like you and I probably never will, but Brienne loves you for some unfathomable reason and I trust her judgement. So I’m going to do everything I can to help you, but I want your help in return. Cersei will come to you without a guard.”

Jamie ‘s heart raced in his chest. “Yes.”

“You understand what I’m asking?” She asked, without a trace of emotion.

“Yes. You want me to help you kill my sister.”


	20. Tonight

Twilight had settled over the landscape, bringing with it a million stars that flickered to life in the night’s sky. With a regretful glance, Brienne tore her eyes away from the beautiful scene and entered the tent. Standing outside only invited conversation and she simply didn’t have the patience for it.

She was on edge, her body humming with nervous energy as she waited for Arya to return and guide her to the keep. As promised, Davos had visited her after Daenerys had arrived. He’d revealed that the Queen planned on attacking King’s Landing tomorrow, but not before she used the cover of darkness to destroy the Iron Fleet.

Davos’ body had been taught with tension, indicating the meeting had gone less than smoothly. When she asked him if all was well, he merely shook his head. She didn’t press him, sensing that he was close to the limit of his endurance. He appeared invincible, larger than life, but he had many years behind him. Being on the brink of another war had to be taking its toll on him.

As much as she liked him, Brienne had told him nothing of her plans. Whilst she trusted him, she also acknowledged that his loyal was to Jon. Jon was still loyal to Daenerys. There was no chance that she was taking such a risk with Jamie’s life. Her plan was weak at best, she needed all the luck she could get to free Jamie.

Had she only been apart from him for three days?

They had gone years without laying eyes on each other and now she could barely stand to be away from him for a couple of days. Deep inside, she understood that the separation wasn’t the true issue. It was the thoughts of what he may be doing. Of what his vile sister might be coercing him to do. Those thoughts were tendrils of darkness that spindled their way through every level of consciousness, denying her any peace.

“Brienne.” Arya whispered, startling her into a jolt. “Are you ready?”

She swung her pack onto her back, her hand resting on Oathkeeper, it’s presence a comfort. “Yes. Are the passages usable?”

“From what I can see. What did you learn about the battle plans?” Brienne repeated what Davos had told her. Arya nodded in the shadows. “That works in our favour. I have some news for you, but we need to hurry. We can talk on the way.”

Pulling the hood of her cloak over her head, she followed Arya out into the camp. Since the Dragon Queen’s arrival the atmosphere within camp had plummeted. There were no jovial gatherings, just quiet murmurings that were unideal for sneaking out of the camp.

Brienne stayed close to Arya, suspecting that the younger woman knew exactly where she was going. Keeping her eyes downcast, she tried to be as inconspicuous as possible which was extremely difficult for a woman of her stature.

They were on the outskirts of camp when a hand came down on her shoulder. She turned to find Davos levelling her with a sombre look. Shock widened his eyes as they landed on Arya, who had stopped a couple of paces in front of her.

“Hello.” Arya said with a smile in her voice.

Davos recovered quickly, relaxing. “Hello, lass. Glad to see you’re in one piece.”

“You too. How’s my brother?”

“He’s got himself some woman troubles.”

Arya shared his amusement. “Jon is a good man, but the problem with men is that they’re all lead with their…”

“Arya.” Brienne admonished, her cheeks flaming. Davos only chuckled. “Ser Davos, I would appreciate it if you kept knowledge of my leaving camp to yourself. At least until the morning.”

“You’re going in after Jamie.” Davos guessed correctly. “I’ll tell Jon when the time is right. He has more pressing matters to attend to at the moment. But he will be interest to hear that you’re well, my lady.” He directed at Arya.

“Tell him tomorrow. One night won’t make a difference.”

Davos sighed, his years showing on his face. “I don’t like this.”

Arya smirked at him. “We’re not asking your permission. Jon will understand.”

“You’re his favourite, he will have my head for allowing you to walk into that shitstorm. But you’re right. You don’t need my permission.”

“Thank you.” Brienne said softly.

“I hope you succeed. Give them hell.” With that he walked away. She sincerely hoped it wouldn’t be the last time she saw him. He was a good man.

Arya caught her eyes, jerked her head forward. “This way.”

 

Wind slapped saltwater in her face, the icy liquid contributing the numbness currently spreading to each of her limbs. For some reason, the fact that they would have to reach the passage by boat hadn’t clicked into place. Boats had never been a problem for her in the past, but the unyielding rocking was causing a strange sensation in her stomach.

“We’re nearly there.” Arya shouted over the noise of the crashing waves. “You don’t look well.”

Brienne ignored the concern, her main priority remaining in the boat and bringing it into the alcove to dock. Her stomach rebelled when a particularly forceful wave smashed into the small vessel. She held her body rigid in an attempt to quash the nausea from overpowering her completely.

Between them they managed to steer the boat into the narrow slit in the rocks. Her muscles were heavy with exertion by the time they dragged the boat onto the gritty surfacing. Without warning, Brienne doubled over and expelled the contents of her stomach, involuntary tears streaming down her face.

She flinched when a small hand rested on her lower back. “Seasickness?”

Straightening, she wiped her mouth, thoroughly disgusted by the whole ordeal. “Not usually.”

“That’s odd.” Arya commented, crouching over her pack. She pulled out a large piece of cloth and began drying her face. A pause. “Could you be pregnant?”

Fear jolted straight to Brienne’s heart. “No. Well, yes. But no.”

Apparently entertained by her reaction, a smile stretched across Arya’s face. “So that is a yes.”

“No. Yes.” No?

“Brienne.”

Denial was her friend. “I can’t be. Not yet. Not now.”

“Why?”

A humourless laugh escaped her lips. “Because my husband’s life is in danger. I’m about to walk into a keep full of soldiers that have probably been commanded to kill me on sight.”

Arya handed her the cloth, apologetic. “I could be wrong.”

Now she had been confronted with it, she had to consider the possibility that she was. She had been rather emotional, sensitive. But she was under a lot of stress. That could account for her weakened emotional state.

Either way, worrying about it would do no good. “We’re going to forget about this conversation. At least until after Jamie and Tyrion are free.”

Hesitation played on Arya’s face. “I understand why you feel that way, but…”

Brienne shook her head. “No. It changes nothing.” Gods, what a lie. It changed everything, but she couldn’t allow herself to think about it.

Arya conceded, “Alright.”

She handed the cloth back to Arya, as dry as she was going to get. “You said you had news.” Her gaze diverted from Brienne’s; the reaction was disturbing. “What is it?”

Brienne listened in horror as Arya explained Cersei’s ultimatum to Jamie. She had never wanted to wrap her hand around someone’s throat more than Cersei’s. Violence had played a role in her adult life, but it had never excited her the way it did some men who entered battle.

Cersei might be the exception to that. She would take great pleasure in inflicting pain on the woman who dished it out to others without a second thought.

“So what is the plan? I assume that you and Jamie have discussed one?”

“We have. She trusts that Jamie won’t hurt her, he is the only person who she sees without the Mountain. We’re going to use that to our advantage. Jamie will lure her into his room, and I’ll be waiting.”

“And the Mountain? Even if he doesn’t enter the room, he’ll surely be outside the door? How will you kill him? Can you use Cersei’s face the way you use others?”

“No, there is more preparation involved. We’ll just have to evade him – he’s strong, but slow. Daenerys will come to the keep. You were right, he won’t survive dragon fire.”

Brienne frowned, “So you plan to run from him?”

“Essentially. I know, not what you would expect, but he’s unsusceptible to anything I can do to him. His strength outweighs mine, and I highly doubt that his body will react to toxins the same way we would. I saw how easily he killed his brother and Clegane was a tough bastard. If we want to get away, we can’t engage with him.”

“What am I to do?” Brienne asked, slightly put out by being side-lined.

“Don’t pout. You will need to free Tyrion. I have poison that will take care of most of the guards.”

“Poison?”

“Yes, I’ll put it in their evening meal which is served soon. So we need to hurry.”

Scowling, Brienne questioned, “And what if a servant eats that food? I won’t kill innocent people; they have no choice in who they serve.”

“They eat separately.” Arya countered, “But if it makes you feel better, I’ll use a sleeping tonic.”

“It does. So we’re doing this tonight?” The prospect sent a wave of energy coursing through her body; with Arya’s help they have a better chance of achieving their goals. But…”Are you sure you want to do this? You could go back to Winterfell. Sana truly is worried about you.”

“I can’t go back without finishing this. All I thoughts about for years is getting retribution for my family. It consumed me.” A vulnerability passed over her features as she shifted. “Don’t you think I wanted stay at Winterfell with the family that I had thought I’d lost? The darkness inside won’t rest until Cersei is dead, maybe then I can finally find a little peace.”

Brienne laid a hand on Arya’s shoulder. She had suffered so much in her short life, lost so much. If Arya thought that crossing the last name of her list would help her move on, who was she to question that?

Arya sent her a muted smile, “Come on, we need to get going. It has to be tonight; Cersei won’t answer Jamie’s summons if an army is attacking the city. You’ll need to wait in the depths of the keep whilst I take care of the guards.”

The journey through the tunnels into the keep was unpleasant and that was putting it mildly. Vermin were rife. Brienne would never admit it to another soul, but she despised rats. Spiders were tolerable, but rats were truly horrific creatures that made her skin crawl.

Still wet from the waves, her clothes clung to her uncomfortably, chilling her body down to the bone. She kept moving, she had to. There was no alternative. If not for the prospect of being reunited with Jamie, she would be miserable.

Adventure had always appealed to the wild spirit trapped inside of her, but she the idea of home was vastly appealing right now. She had been far from Tarth for a long time and she did not necessarily want to settle there. Her idea of home was largely focused on Jamie, the structure and location of it unimportant as long as he was by her side.

She longed for a slice of stability – the confidence that she and Jamie would be left alone to live their lives in peace. How realistic that was she didn’t know, but it was becoming more obvious to her that she did wish to settle in one place and have a home where their family could shut out the world if they wanted.

Brienne wrapped those thoughts around her like a blanket, bathing her in warmth. She would keep them close as she walked into the viper’s nest.


	21. An assasin & A Kingslayer

Jamie glanced at the door for the tenth time in the last minute. He found himself uncharacteristically anxious. Plotting to kill your sibling turned ex-lover would do that to a man. He directed his gaze to the armoire where Arya concealed herself from view, eager to be over with it all. His longing to embrace Brienne was a physically ache inside his chest.

He was worried for her, alone in the keep. Arya had hidden her on one of the lower levels in an unused room. She’d given his wife instructions to wait there for the sleeping agent to take affect and then make for Tyrion. Anytime now the guards should begin to drop, which was going to cause of problem if the guards stood outside his room had consumed some of the spoiled food. If Cersei found them sleeping on duty, she would be suspicious.

So many things could go wrong.

If it were only his life on the line, he could accept the odds. But he had three others to consider. Too many variables, too little time to accomplish the unthinkable.

As the hour drew later, Jamie started to fear that Cersei wouldn’t answer his summons. He’d sent her a message at least two hours ago. The wait was only prolonging his precarious position. Now he’d been informed that the Dragon Queen planned to attack the next day, Cersei’s ultimatum was essentially void, however, there were no guarantees the Targaryen would win and if she did, his life was in danger once more.

A simple life sounded appealing when he considered his situation. How easy his life would be if he ran a fucking farm in the middle of nowhere, return to his wife at the end of the day and tend to their children. Being born a Lannister had given him a life of luxury, but what value did that have when it trapped him into making impossible choices that always seemed to lead him down a dark path?

Killing Cersei was necessary, but he wondered of the stain it would leave on his soul.

If it gave him a chance to move forward once and for all, did he even care?

These were the questions that plagued him when a commotion rose from behind the door. Voice. The heavy door opening. Cersei, dressed in her night clothes, entering. Distantly, he registered the sequence of events, his stomach rebelling. At the sight or her or the thought of the task ahead? He didn’t know.

She had come for him, expecting to reignite their affair when only death awaited her. She would be much less pleased with herself if she knew the truth of it.

Behind her, the Mountain, clad in full armour, halting just before the threshold, eyes unblinking as the door shut in his face. He’d given the Mountain’s altered state no real thought before, but Arya’s knowledge of him, of his incapacity to die, was indeed chilling.

So much more so because he knew he’d have to get through him to leave the room alive.

“I knew you would make the right decision.” Cersei spoke, strolling over to the table to pour herself some wine. Jamie tried to keep his expression neutral in an attempt to disguise his disgust. Her smugness was intolerable. “What we have is sacred, a bond that can never be broken.”

It took every ounce of his willpower to stay quiet. He imagined the revulsion he would feel if he actually had to go through with bedding her, betraying Brienne in the most horrific of ways. The gleam in Cersei’s eyes showed how much she was enjoying the scene. Revelling in his misery.

Once upon on time, he’d considered her the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. Maybe she still was, but her attempts to appear seductive only deflated his cock into a depressive state.

Taking a sip of wine, she regarded him. “You don’t appear to want me here. Perhaps I should go and make our brother a little less…comfortable.”

Shoving his rage in a box, he rose from the bed, taking the cup from her hand and setting it back down on the table. Excitement blossomed on her face; gods she actually liked his animosity. His distain, his unwillingness, exhilarated her.

“We both know this isn’t my choice.” He’d told her on their last meeting; she would never be his choice again.

Her breath hitched as her inched closer, her breasts brushing his chest. “Tell yourself that if you must.”

“I feel sorry for you; you’ll never know what it is to have a pure love.”

She laughed at him, sliding her hands around his waist. They were like tentacles, sucking the life from him. “Why would I want to? I’m quite satisfied with the feel of your cock slamming into me. There’s no better sensation than that, especially when I know you despise me a little.”

_A little?_

Wrapping his hand around her throat, he ensured her attention was fully focused on him. Behind her, Arya silently slipped from the armoire and crossed to the door, twisting the lock into place. It would only delay any intruders for a few minutes, but that could be all they needed.

“You know,” he began, voice soft, “I never wanted it to come to this between us. But you push and you push. You could have just let me be. But your vanity wouldn’t let you, would it? You sent men after me, instructing them to rape my wife before killing her in front of my eyes. Did you think I could let that go?”

He squeezed her delicate little neck, watching with great satisfaction as a spark of fear flickered to life. She lunged out of his grip, feeling towards the door to find Arya blocking it. She started to utter a curse before she was unceremoniously cut off by pounding on the door.

“My Queen, an intruder has been spotted in the keep.”

Jamie’s heart stilled. Brienne. They could only be talking of Brienne. He and Arya shared a concerned look.

Taking opportunity of their lapse in awareness, Cersei screamed, “Help –“

Her words were swallowed up by Jamie’s hand clamping across her mouth. Too late. Fists hammered at the door, more ferocious than before. He pushed it from his mind, trying to a contain a struggling Cersei in his arms.

Arya, blade in hand, advanced on them. Calmly, she said, “Let her go.”

Releasing Cersei, he looked on dispassionately as she turned and raked at his clothes. “Jamie, help me. She will kill me.”

“I know.” And he would live with it.

With a howl, her nails clawed at his face. Fury infused her features she continued her assault on him. “I will have you’re head for this. You will never escape the keep.”

Jamie thrust her away, sending her sailing into the bedpost. He turned to Arya, “Get on with it. The door won’t hold for long.”

“Jamie!” Cersei screeched, attempting to reach him once more. Arya intercepted her, allowing him a moment of respite. For all she had done – for all she would do – she needed to die. Knowing that didn’t make it easier to ignore her cries for help. Since childhood, it has been ingrained in him to protect his sister.

Even now, when he had every reason to hate her, he had to lock his muscles into place to stop from going to her. He didn’t love her, barely could even stand to look at her, but the habits were deep-seated, ground into his very existence.

A loud crack made his body jerk. It was a blessing, the distraction he needed. The guards, along with the Mountain were almost through the door. Searching for something – anything – to keep them at bay a little longer, his eyes landed on the armoire Arya had used to hide in. Bursting into action, he tried to slide the heavy unit in front of the door to no avail.

Fuck. He searched again. There was nothing. He threw himself at the door, aware that they had run out of time if there were going to leave the keep still breathing.

Over the yelling, he could hear little of the words that were being exchanged between the two women. The determined set to his sister’s face told him she had yet to give into her fate.

“Arya, we don’t have time for this. They’re almost through the fucking door and they know Brienne is here. Do it.” Jamie roared.

Cersei’s tear stained eyes found his. “Jamie, please.”

Outwardly, he displayed no emotion. Later he would allow himself time to grieve for the woman who had once met so much to him. Now, he had to find his wife.

Arya’s words were too quiet for him to distinguish, but she had finally seemed to grasp the urgency of the situation. Cersei kicked out with her legs as the girl approach. She evaded the blows with ease, her training apparent in every step.

A rapid flash silver and her thin blade pierced into Cersei’s heart. A cry of pain escaped his sister’s lips, pulling at Jamie’s conscience.

No. Her time had expired. She’d earned her death.

Arya stepped away causing Cersei to collapse on the floor, crimson blood pooling around her prone body. Breath stuttering, her eyes landed on his, tears flowing freely. Jamie held her gaze, unable to look away from the distress he saw in them. The moment would haunt him forever, but he had to look. Had to watch the life drain from her, be certain that she was dead.

When the nightmares came, he would take and remind himself that she could no longer take those away he loved.

A powerful thrust pitched him forward, yanking him out of the trance-like state he’d been experiencing. Arya, too, snapped back into herself, though she appeared as shaken as him. She scanned the room, obviously looking for something to help them. Her panic told him she was out of ideas.

“Fuck.” He muttered, his face scrunching in concentration.

He was not dying in this fucking hellhole. He would not allow his head to be pulverised by the Mountain as the arrogant Oberyn’s had been.

No fucking way. Brienne was scrambling around the keep, alone, trying to save his brother.

“Get the bed sheet.” A plan was forming. It wasn’t great, but it was all he had. Arya complied, hastily ripping the material from the bed and she used all of his strength to buy them a couple more seconds. He grabbed the other end of the sheet and instructed her to position herself on the other side of the door frame.

“We’ll trip them over as they rush in and make a run for it.” He told her. There was a rhythm to the crashes against the door. If he timed it right, they would propel themselves forward and hopefully land on a heap on the ground.

“Wait. Take this.” She threw a dagger in his direction. Without two hands, he wouldn’t be able to hold it until he released the sheet.

A crash. “Three, two, one.”

He jumped to the side, snapping the material up as he moved. Due to the splintering material, his plan didn’t quite work the way he envisioned, but it did hinder the Mountain’s movements. By some miracle, he went down with a heavy thud. Arya took advantage of the beast’s momentary incapacitation and plunged her blade into one guard’s throat, catching him by surprise.

Jamie followed suit, palming the dagger she had tossed him and stabbed the other in the chest, twisting as the man went down.

The Mountain bellowed, clambering up with some speed.

Jamie met Arya’s eyes. “Run.”

He had to give it to her, the girl had balls of steel. No hesitation, no fear. In that way, she reminded him of Brienne. Following her from his prison, he took one of the dead men’s swords and they sped along the hallway, coming across a few sleeping soldiers who had obviously digested the contaminated food.

Daring a glance over his shoulder, he was utterly relieved to find that the Mountain had yet to follow them, most likely confused over his mistresses’ death. That would only last for so long.

“Dungeon.” Jamie said between breaths.

Pain streaked down his arm causing his head to whip to the side. Three armed soldiers were mere steps away, the tallest sword dripping with Jamie’s blood. He blocked the next blow, grateful when Arya pivoted and dispatched the man with astonishing speed. It took them less than a minute to take care of the remaining two, making an oddly effective team. An assassin and the Kingslayer.

Was there a more dynamic duo?

Raised voices sounded from beyond the corner. Arya halted, gesturing him to do the same. His stomach dropped at the vulgar laughter. “The Imp has been cut up good and proper. Don’t know why the fuck the everyone else is sleeping, but Niall and a few of the others have got the big bitch cornered in the dungeon – said he’s going to teach her a lesion before splitting her open.”

Barging past Arya, he flew into the four men gathered on top of the stairs. Two of them lost their footing and tumbled down the hard steps with satisfying cracks and screams. Jamie ran his borrowed sword through another’s stomach. An arm came from behind him, restricting his airway. Having trained for combat all of his life, he drove himself backwards, sending his attacker hurtling into the wall. The solider let go when Jamie jabbed his elbow into the flesh of his stomach. He followed up by smacking his golden fist into the fucker’s ugly face, his nose crunching on impact.

The man fell to the floor, eyes rolling in the back of his head.

Turning, Jamie found Arya staring at him, brow raised. “We could have gotten more information from them.”

Wiping his blade on his leg, he spared her a glance. “Brienne is in trouble. That is all I need to know.”

“It’s useful to have knowledge of any situation you’re walking into.” She argued, her colour having return after killing his sister. He knew why he’d been so disturbed, he could only guess why she had been so shaken by the experience.

“Leave if you want.” He said, though he understood she was a great asset.

She scowled at him. “Fuck off. Brienne is my friend. You’re bleeding.” She pointed out, gesturing the deep gash in his right arm.

Jamie paid it no attention, scanning her for injuries. Thankfully, she had none. Strangely, he thought he would care if she were hurt. “If you’re coming with me, hurry up.”

He set off again towards the dungeon. Whoever dared to lay a hand on his wife courted their own death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really not used to writing action! Apologies if it's too clunky in parts, hopefully you'll be pleased by the development in the story though haha


	22. The Dungeon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, got a little side-tracked with binging the first season of Attack on Titan!
> 
> Just a warning, this chapter is a bit graphic. Not too bad though.

Ear to the door, Brienne strained her senses, trying to get some idea of what was happening in the keep. Arya had instructed her to wait for two hours for the drug to start to take effect. That time was almost up. Unfortunately, she could hear nothing beyond the door. What she expected to hear, she didn’t know exactly.

Unhelpful. If she made her move prematurely, she would be overrun in a matter of minutes. Unwilling to take the risk, she remained concealed for another half an hour, giving her time to go through the set of directions Arya had replayed before leaving her to go to Jamie.

Agitation crawled along her skin. So close to him, yet unable to set eyes on him. Witness for herself that he was unharmed and whole. Arya had assured her he was uninjured so that was something.

However, she was astute enough to realise that he wouldn’t survive the situation completely unscathed. Cersei’s death would wound him on a visceral level; she could only hope that he wouldn’t allow the hurt to fester and consume him. She would do everything in her power to support him. Providing they escaped the keep alive, of course.

Almost unconsciously, she slid a hand to her stomach, regretting leaving her armour back at camp. It had been necessary for she couldn’t sneak around the keep in the heavy plating. She felt naked without it. More so than ever when she considered the possibility that she could be with child.

No. It wasn’t a possibility until both Jamie and Tyrion were safe. Only then would she permit herself to acknowledge the chance.

Becoming more restless by the second, Brienne threw caution to the wind and slipped into the hallway, carefully sweeping the area as she moved. Infiltrating enemy holdings hadn’t been a part of her training, her skill set lending itself to direct combat. The silence of the keep was unsettling, giving an eerie effect that set her teeth on edge.

She was no Arya, her heavy-feet likely to echo with every step.

If Arya hadn’t been so insistent on killing Cersei herself, Brienne would have held her ground and have them swap roles. How she would have entered Jamie’s room without detection was a mystery, but she would much rather have wracked her brain with that conundrum than try her hand at stealthily navigating the depths of the keep.

She awkwardly tiptoed down the hallway, cringing when she tripped over a stone jutting from the ground. Grinding her teeth, she berated herself. More care, less speed.

Following the path Arya had outlined, Brienne kept her sense sharp. Her first problem came as she approached the stairs that she believed led down to the dungeon. Two men stood conversing. Luckily she’d heard them before rounding the corning and had the quick response to flatten her back against the wall.

Inching her head around the corning, she managed to get a good lay of the scene without them noticing her. They were yawning, she noted with interest. Too pronounced and too often to be natural. Deciding to wait a few minutes to see if they succumbed to the sleeping toning, she returned to her position against the wall, attempting to make herself as small as possible.

Too open. Every instinct she possessed told her to engage with them, but she fought against her nature. Combat made noise; she couldn’t afford to bring unwanted attention onto herself.

She snuck another glance. One of the men was slumped against the door frame, his fellow comrade frowning at him, forcibly blinking in an attempt to keep himself awake. Another minute and they would be out.

A small smile touched her lips as a clatter reached her ears. Leaving her stop against the wall, she was pleased to find them sleeping soundly. To ensure that no one came across slumbering men, Brienne took the time to drag their bodies into a nearby room, the exertion burning her already aching muscles. Blowing out a breath, she swiped an errant lock of hair from her forehead.

She closed the door and hurried down the stairwell. If she’d steered herself through the halls correctly, the stairs should lead her straight to Tyrion. She rushed down them, wincing at the sound of her boots slapping against the hard surfacing.

Distracted by the noise, she nearly crashed head first into a closed door. She twisted the handle, heart hammering when she found it locked. Of course the door would be locked! The dungeons held Cersei’s enemies. Pushing panic aside, Brienne took a moment to consider her option, calming her breathing.

She had a brain, a clever one at that, it was time she began using it.

Scrambling back up the stairs, she returned to the room she had dumped the sleeping men and rummaged through their pockets with haste.

“Yes.” She whispered triumphantly when her hand closed around a key.

Moving with speed, she ran back to the locked door and inserted the key. It opened with an ominous creek, revealing a darkly lit tunnel that sent shivers down her spine. The image was sinister and common sense screamed at her to turn back. Strange sounds travelled through the tunnel only increasing her ill-ease.

She steeled herself against the urges to leave, imagining the terror Tyrion had endure during the last weeks. Jamie had knighted her, believed in her strength. She could face anything that was thrown at her.

Drawing Oathkeeper, she tightened her palm around its hilt. She bolted down the tunnel, ears prickling as moans of pain became more discernible followed by cruel laughter.

The sight that men her on the other side would be seared into her memory for the rest of her existence.

A group of men – six, she counted – were gathered in one cell, spreading out onto the narrow strip of that separate it from the bars opposite. They were so engrossed in their disgusting action that they failed to register her entry.

Blood soaked the ground and sprayed the faces of the soldiers who howling with sadistic laughter as they drew another scream from their captive’s throat.

Tyrion. _Oh gods._

His small body was partially blocked from view by the men, but she saw enough to recognise his features. Arms shackled above his head, his head hung low. If not for the occasional groan she would think him dead. Her stomach protested at the sight of his naked chest, scattered with what seem to be a thousand wounds. Burns, slices, gashed.

For a moment she could not react. Physically, her body was stunted, held in it’s position by an unseen force. The scene reminded her all too much of that night. Jamie’s hand being cut from him so callously, the days after when their captors had taunted him over it.

It sickened her. Their glee sickened her.

How did suck evil exist in the world?

“Don’t do it that deep.” A dark haired man complained, snorting. “She said we could have some fun, not kill him.”

“Oh fuck off, Niall. You’ve lost your balls.” Another laughed, “I want to make him squeal like a pig.”

Enraged, undiluted fury took hold of her body, her mind losing all sense of reason. Closing the gap between herself and the closet man, she stabbed her blade right into his spine, pushing his convulsing body into the group of animals who claimed to be men.

Catching them off-guard gave her an early advantage. Without breaking stride, she ripped Qathkeep from the first of her victims and drove it straight into the chest of another as he turned to meet her, shock bleeding into his expression as the life died from his eyes.

Both men fell to a heap on the ground.

Tyrion’s eyes slammed open, panic flaring as his pain riddled mind recognised the sight of her. His lips moved, but she couldn’t make out the words and she was soon occupied by the remaining men advancing on her. Realisation had finally dawned and her advantaged disappeared.

A quick assessment told her that only two of them had their swords, one had no weapon at all and the other had a knife, dripping with what she assumed was Tyrion’s blood.

“Run.” Tyrion’s broken voice tugged at her heart. Brienne ignored his command; she had never been the sort to flee from a fight. She experienced fear as much as anyone else, but she refused to allow it to control her actions. Morality always won the battle. These men deserved to die, torturing a helpless man. A bound man.

“Yeah, run bitch.” The man with the knife goaded, his mud brown eyes dancing with excitement.

One of the men armed with a sword piped in, “You’re the one fucking the Queen’s brother, aren’t you? Been on the alert for you for weeks.” He turned his muscular shoulders to his friends, “She wants her alive.” There was no doubt who _she_ was. Cersei. The poisonous bitch would surely love to get her hands on Brienne. “How does he fuck you after fucking her? You got a magic cunt?”

With her long history of being subjected to derogatory comments, his vile words couldn’t touch her. She would be entirely focused on using her skill as a warrior to eliminate them and tend to her brother by marriage. Glancing his way, her concerned increased by tenfold. He was barely conscious, bleeding too heavily.

“Got nothing to say, bitch?” He continued to hound her, his aggression evident.

“I don’t converse with animals.” She said haughtily. Purposefully.

The comment tipped him over the edge and he rushed at her, along with his fellow solider also armed with a blade. Stupidity or arrogance made them blind to the choke point they leaped right into. Brienne, anticipating the movement, stepped back into the walkway that separated the cells, forcing the men to approach her one at a time.

Brienne slapped the loud mouth’s weapon with her own, his cocky expression faltering when he staggered under the weight of her strength. To his credit, he put up a decent fight, however, her experience plainly surpasses his own. She quickly ended his life with a damning strike to through the chest. He flailed to the ground, the next solider taking his place.

Immediately she recognised that this opponent would provide more of a challenge. It was in the way he held himself, the way he gripped his weapon. No foolish words or smug expression; his resolution to best her clear in her eyes.

A dangerous thrust his blade in her direction, driving her backwards, giving him the opportunity to free himself from her cell. Brienne inwardly cursed, knowing she had just lost her only advantage.

And then there was no time to think. She could only react to his onslaught of precise attacks, a cry ripping from her when the sharp steel sliced through her forearm. Blocking his next lunge, her blade met his in a piercing clash. Harnessing the physical strength, she had been mocked for all her life, she knocked him back, causing him to stumble.

Air rushed by her ear. There was no time to dodge the incoming fist. Pain radiated from her cheek as her body was propelled into the metal bars to the right. Her head following, smashing into the rounded steel.

She hadn’t forgotten about the other two men, she kept a wary eye on them, but the anticipation of ending her skilful opponent had been a momentary distraction. Now her entire head was throbbing, vision wavering as she attempted to right herself.

She had little defence against the swordsman charging towards her. Moving on instinct, her arm camp up, partially thwarting a vicious swipe. The tip connected with her collarbone, slicing upwards as it rebounded.

Dazed, she lashed out blindly, grunts of pain sounding in response. She would not yield. Failing Jamie was not an option.

“Get her in the fucking cell.”

Hands grabbed at her body. Another blow to the face. The enclosed space made it impossible to escape, her large frame presenting too much of a target. Pulse pounding in her ears, she struggled in their grip. She was shaken, fraught with panic, but she clamped it down, reminding herself that fear could not rule her actions.

A battle cry left her lips as she shoved the weaponless man away. _She would not yield._

“Stop or the imp dies.” A voice bellowed.

Brienne froze.

She cast a glance to the side. The third remaining men had his knife pressing against Tyrion’s neck. All hope she had possessed died in that instant. Jamie would be devastated if she allowed his brother to die; he’d walked back into his sister’s clutches to avoid that very scenario.

Ceasing her struggles, she allowed herself to be pushed to her knees. Meeting Tyrion’s eyes, she tried to convey a sense of poise. There was still time. She could find a way out of this. They had been instructed to take her alive. As long as she was alive, she would fight.

“That idiot you just killed without hesitation was my only brother.” He said, his dagger digging into the soft flesh of Tyrion’s throat. All moisture left her mouth at the sinister glint in his eyes. “Didn’t really like him too much, but he was blood.” A nod of his head. What was he - ?

Pain streaked up her back when a brutal kick landed on her spine. She fell forward, curling into a ball as her sword clattered to the ground. With the idea of pregnancy planted in her mind, she protected her stomach as best as she could, tears streaming down her face as boots pounding into every available inch of her body.

She bit her lip, tasting blood on her tongue. In agony all she could do was retreat into herself, one clear thought cutting through the haze of pain that consume her mind.

She had failed Jamie.

They were going to kill her.

She only prayed that Arya and Jamie had succeeded, that they had escaped undetected. If she could be sure of that, she could allow herself to go. Fall into the darkness. Wait for Jamie to come to her.

 

 


	23. Changing Faces

“Where the fuck is Ian? He should be back by now.” Eyes closed, Brienne held herself perfectly still. A thick haze clouded her mind making it difficult to connect her thoughts in anyway that made sense. Where was she? Why did it hurt to breath, to think? “Something’s off.” A deep voice spat, fairly close to her, she thought.

She was lying on the ground, stomach pressed to the floor, arms splayed out either side of her. Blood was dripping from her face, wetness coating her cheeks. Instinct told her to remain unmoving, that any change in her condition would bring unwanted attention.

Memories of the fight pushed their way to the forefront of her mind. Tyrion! Cracking an eyelid open, she covertly scanned the what little she could of her surroundings. She was in the cell opposite Tyrion’s. He remained shackled to the wall as two soldiers talked in the hallway. The bodies of the dead had been moved to the entrance.

Why was she alive?

Death had been a certainty; she’d seen it reflected in the soldier’s eyes.

She suppressed a groan, pain wracking her body. It had suffered to much damage in the last month. It was unfair, she thought with hysteria, that she had only just recovered from the last assault.

Luckily, the two remaining men were distracted by their missing comrade to take note of her altered breath or the spasms of pain she couldn’t quite control. They were still conversing, but Brienne found it difficult to follow, the haze in her mind too thick. Breathing through the pain took most of her concentration.

She was alive. Tyrion was alive. She held onto those facts. For how much longer, she couldn’t predict. Forcing herself to focus, she listened to their words.

“All he had to do was and see what was going on. He’s a fucking liability.” This came from the men who had cut her forearm. If she was correct Ian was the brother of the solider she’d killed, the one who had give the order to beat her.

Leaving only Niall. “Calm down. We have two of the Queen’s enemies in our custody. We’re good here.”

They were, she mused. She was locked in a cell, left it no state to defend herself after the beating they’d given her. Tyrion was unconscious and even if he were alert, he would be of little help. Cersei should be dead by now if Jamie and Arya had been successful. They should have made their escape. If they had outmanoeuvred the Mountain.

If, if, if.

There were no assurances either of those things had happened, only her faith in two of the most capable people she knew. And yet, despair still threatened to break her. It was just as likely they would all die in this godforsaken place, surrounded by their enemies.

Including the child she knew lay in her womb.

The innocent life had endured so much already and she, mule-headed, had ran straight into a battle with highly unfavourable odds. Would she never learn? Yes, she was a skilled fighter, but it meant little when outnumbered six to one.

She’d been over-ambitious, and it had cost her. Stubborn when she should have been cautious. Until Jamie had accused her of it, she had never thought of herself as careless with her own life. But it appeared she’d just proved him right.

She knew it wasn’t that simple; she’d been powerless to control her actions when she’d seen that they’d been doing to Tyrion. How they had laughed at his pain. As much as she hated where it had led her, she couldn’t regret putting a stop to his torture.

A scuffle from the door attracted her attention. From her position on the ground, it was difficult to distinguish her features, but she appeared to be a servant girl. Pretty and completely out of her depth. Leers were soon etched onto the soldier’s faces, their intent clear.

Gods, the malice of these men knew no bounds.

The girl’s head was down, but Brienne caught the glance she threw her way as she shuffled by her cell. Fearless. Resolute. She had seen that look many times before.

Arya.

It had to be.

But, if it was Arya, where was Jamie?

She didn’t linger on that thought, couldn’t if she wanted to keep her sanity. She had to believe that he was alive, trust that he would do anything to keep himself alive, if only for her sake.

“What are you doing down here darling?” Niall questioned, his voice deceptively soft.

His tone made Brienne’s skin crawl. She prayed that her assumptions were correct and it truly was Arya in disguise because watching a girl get violated in front of her eyes would steal the rest of her will. Arya was a dangerous foe; the men would not get anywhere near her unless she permitted it.

Niall approached her when the girl remained silent, fingering a lock of her wavy blonde hair. “You want to play?”

The girl tilted her head to meet his eyes. “Yes, I do.” She replied, arching a concealed dagger skyward, right into his underside of his chin. Spluttering, he fell to the ground when she withdrew the blade. It had barely left his flesh before she sent it sailing through the air, into the nameless soldier’s eye.

During this, Brienne pushed herself from the floor into a sitting position, watching in morbid fascination as the man yanked the offending item from his eyes, screeching in agony. Arya, in a matter of seconds, strode up to him, pried the knife from his weak grip and promptly slit his throat.

The display of calculated viciousness was extraordinary. If they survived the next hour, Brienne would be receiving more lessons from Arya. No movement wasted. A graceful dance of sorts with deadly intention. She would never be that poised, but there was disadvantage to improving her technique.

“Clear.” Arya yelled.

Brienne collapsed in relief when Jamie came into view, unharmed and whole. Alive. Eyes blazing with violent savagery as he digested the scene. Everything else forgotten, she could only ground herself in his eyes. Ground herself in the knowledge that he was alive. He’d come for her.

“Brienne.” His voice broke.

She swallowed down a sob, an incredible sense of vulnerability washing over her. He saw her, really saw her. He would delve past the pretence and recognise how shaken she was. “Tyrion.” She breathed through the pain, “he’s in a bad way.”

A slow now as he turned to Arya, “Keys.”

Somehow she’d reverted back to her own face. The sight was welcome. Whilst she looked for the keys to their cells, Jamie crouched down to her level, his hand curling around the bar. With a gentle voice, he asked, “Can you stand?”

The notion was unpleasant, but she nodded. “Yes. I can.” She _would._

“Stay seated for the moment. I need to check on Tyrion.” He said, though he made no effort to move. He reached his hand through the bars and caressed her cheek. “Are you okay?”

She bit her lower lip, shaking her head almost indiscernibly. “See to Tyrion.” Her eyes settled on the deep gash on his arm. “You’re bleeding.”

“It’s nothing.” His voice shook with emotion. “Brienne, look at me.”

She did as he asked. There were dozens of questions on the tip of her tongue, but no words formed. Their true reunion would have to wait. For now, she was satisfied to see life flaring in his eyes.

“Go to Tyrion.” She commanded, giving him a weak smile.

 

Jamie compressed the wild rage burning inside. For now, he had to keep a hold of himself. If they were all to survive, there was no alternative. Ripping his eyes from Brienne’s, he moved to Tyrion’s cell.

“Tyrion.” He called, examining his broken body. “Brother.” He said with more volume hoping to raise him from the slumber.

Nothing. The only indication that he had that Tyrion was still living, was the slow rising of his chest and occasionally laboured breath.

Arya came up beside him, a set of keys jangling in her grip. Jamie waited for her to open the cell, rushing in when the door swung open. “Tend to Breinne. We need to be ready to move.”

No doubt the Mountain had awoken from his stupor. Not to mention the possibility of Euron Greyjoy or Qyburn being alerted to their presence.

Arya followed his instruction, only stopping to throw him a smaller key, presumably the one to unlock Tyrion’s shackles. Jamie caught him against his chest and slowly lowered him to the ground.

If Cersei wasn’t already dead, he would throttle the life out of her himself for this. There was no doubt that Tyrion’s current condition was her fault, inflicted on her orders. She must have given them after he’d summoned her, the vindictive bitch.

Any remorse he’d felt regarding her death fled at the sight of Tyrion. Jamie hardly dared to touch him for fear of causing him further damage. He had no healing skill in the best of circumstance, so here there was really nothing he could do to ease his brother’s suffering.

A groan from behind drew his attention. Peeking over his shoulder, he saw Arya supporting Brienne’s weight as she doubled over in pain, face glistening with the effort of moving. Jamie clenched his fist. They should have got here faster. Arya’s plan had worked, but it had cost them precious time and Brienne had paid the price.

_Get through it. Rage after._

He set his jaw, determination flooding through him. They had all been through too much to die today.

“How did you escape the Mountain?” Brienne’s strained voice asked.

Arya replied, “We think he was confused by Cersei’s death.”

Brienne met his eyes, concern filling them. “So it’s done then?”

He inclined his head. “It’s done.” Taking a deep breath, he worked through a dozen scenarios. “Arya, how far in the passage into the tunnels from here?”

“A couple of minutes, but there is no other exit from this room. We need to go back the way we came. If we don’t move soon, we could be trapped in here.”

That outcome was his biggest concern. If the Mountain found them in the dungeon, they’d be fucked. Plain and simple. The area was too small to evade his attacks and none in their group had the physical strength to best him in such closed quarters.

One reason why they’d planned for Brienne to get Tyrion was the surprise and haste of a simultaneous attack, giving them a better chance of escape. Now they were all in one place, the remaining forces inside the keep would surely be advancing to their location.

“We need to go.” He announced with urgency. “I can carry Tyrion. Arya, you help Brienne.”

“No.” His wife protested, “she needs her hands free in case we run into someone. I can walk by myself.”

Jamie bit off a curse, “You can barely stand! Don’t be so stubborn.”

She ignored him, directing her words to Arya. “Can you pass me Oathkeeper? I can use it to steady myself.”

“Brienne.” He warned, his patience a hair’s breadth from vanishing entirely. Why did she always insist of putting her own safety below everyone else’s? It was humbling and fucking maddening. Something they would be readdressing as soon as they escaped the keep.

Arya spoke, “She’s right. With you carrying Tyrion, I’m the only one who can fight. She’s in no condition to raise a weapon. I’ll protect her.”

From the expression on his wife’s face, Jamie was certain she hated the role reversal, always being the shield. He understood. As a warrior, accepting help went against everything they had taught themselves. Being the one in need of protection was frustrating and as much as he loathed to admit it, humiliating.

Without his sword hand he’d had to relearn everything which had taken far too much time. Those first sparring sessions with Bronn had been eye-opening it the most brutal sense of the word, mortification stabbing at him every time the man had pushed him into the dirt.

So yes, he understood Brienne’s hesitance to accept that she needed help and he wasn’t going to make it any more difficult for her. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Arya led them out of the door with Brienne following closely behind and Jamie bringing up the rear with Tyrion in his arms. Behind her, Jamie found it painful to watch his wife stagger at the stairs, her sharp intakes of breath piercing his ears. The fact that he could not aid her made it exponentially worse.

Without his help, she propelled herself forward, leaving him amazed by her strength of will. From the first moment he’d met her, he’d recognised it, some dormant part of himself instantaneously connecting with her.

Moments, so many of them, flashed in his mind. Fighting side by side with her against the dead. Her resolution to find the Stark girls when all hope seemed lost. Knighting her. He would draw on her incredible willpower, hold it close to his heart.

They would escape.


	24. Escape

Every step was fresh hell. Putting one foot in front of the other was a monumental effort that would have been impossible in any other situation. If she failed now, it could mean all of their doom. Jamie wouldn’t leave her, placing Arya and Tyrion in greater danger. So she continued, pure willpower keeping her upright.

Jamie’s presence behind her made it more bearable. Despite the abysmal circumstances, she was overjoyed to be reunited with him.

Thankfully, they had reached the top of the stairs. She could only hope a flatter surfacing would be easier to navigate.

She almost crashed into Arya’s back when she came to an abrupt stop. Waving her hand, she gestured for them to retreat against the wall. “Two approaching.” Her words were almost inaudible. “Stay back, I’m going to take care of them.”

Brienne circled Arya’s wrist, worried about her fighting alone. “There’s no need.”

“Yes, there is. Any we don’t kill are a future threat if we’re detected.”

Brienne acquiesced, acknowledging the sense in her words. “Be careful.”

There were no need for such words, she’d witnessed first-hand how skilful Arya was, but finding and protecting the Stark girls had been her objective for years. Years of her life focused on that single goal.

Seeing Arya dominant her opponents, watching Sansa transform into the Lady of Winterfell, Brienne had to accept that they had little need of her anymore. The thought was bittersweet; leaving behind that mission would end that chapter of her life, but witnessing the girls blossom was the most valuable reward she could ask for.

“I always am.” Arya said with her customary half-smile.

She left them, disappearing around the corner, out of sight. Brienne had to admit it gave her opportunity to rest for a moment, catch her breath. Leaning against the wall, she exhaled. Jamie gave her a concerned look.

“You can do this.” He reassured her, shifting Tyrion in his arms. “We’ll soon be out of here and I won’t let you leave our bed for a week.”

They both knew they had a lot to overcome before that could happen, but she played along. “You know I don’t like being told what to do, even by my husband.”

“One of the many reasons why I love you.” He smiled.

Craving physical connection with him, she brushed her fingers along his growing beard. “I’ve missed you.”

Closing his eyes, he leaned into her touch. “We’re never parting again.”

“You’ll get no argument from me.” She whispered. Her heart, her soul, belonged to him. Anyone who tried to stand between them or tear them apart would be met with death. How bloodthirsty she’d become since admitting the truth of her feelings for him.

Brienne snatched her hand away when Arya appeared beside her, startled and slightly embarrassed to be caught in such a position when they were surrounded by enemies.

Arya smirked at them. “No time for that. At least wait until we’ve escaped.”

Jamie rolled his eyes, though his amusement was apparent. “Lead the way, little wolf.”

She recognised the route Arya guided them through, having travelled it only hours ago. Was it hours, or minutes? She really had no sense of time since awakening in the cell. They were close though, to the concealed passageway that led to the tunnel.

A roar echoed from the walls.

They all stopped in their tracks, aware who the sound came from. The Mountain.

“Hurry.” Arya hissed, “He’s close.”

Brienne increased her pace to match Arya’s, the pain still present but, now a secondary factor. She would not be able to feel a thing if the Mountain caught up with them. Apprehension swirled in her gut, the unpleasant sensation expanding outwards.

She felt as though they were being chased by hellhounds.

The outcome would be the same if they were caught, ripped to pieces whilst their blood stained the walls. The vivid picture froze her blood, ensnaring her in –

She hit the ground with impact, her hands and knees taking the brunt of the force. Jamie stumbled to the side in an effort to avoid her.

“Brienne!” He placed Tyrion on the ground, circling his arms around her waist. “Come on, you need to get up.” Jamie hoisted her up, giving her a moment to settle on her feet. Heavy footsteps pounded on the stone.

“He’s coming!” Arya shouted. She’d taken up a position behind them, guarding their backs. “Run!” It was said on the move, her small figure coming beneath Brienne’s shoulder. Jamie sent her a grateful look before lifting Tyrion in his arms.

Brienne allowed herself to be propped up by Arya, the younger woman half-dragging her along. “If we get to the passage, we can close it. There was a bar on the other side.”

Jamie agreed with her. “It may slow him down long enough for us to escape.”

“Arya, you need to go on ahead and ensure the path is clear. I can manage now.” Truthfully, she was uncertain that she could, but those extra few seconds could save all their lives.

Arya nodded with obvious reluctance, leaving view.

Brienne pushed on, her eyes on Jamie. She had to go on. Drive through the pain so that she could live. Jamie continually glanced back, making sure that she was still following, giving her all the motivation she required.

They rushed around the final corner. Arya stood holding the door open for the stairs that would lead to the very depths of the keep. Gods, more stairs she thought with desperation. At least they were downward this time.

Perhaps she could just roll down them.

Arya’s eyes widened. “Quickly!” She bellowed. Brienne did not dare to look back, but from Arya’s reaction the Mountain had to be close behind them. She could almost feel the breath of her nape, air brushing her skin as he tried to grab at her clothing. Was it her imagination, or could she smell his stench?

Jamie burst into the stairwell and Brienne was only seconds behind him. Arya jumped in after them, slamming the door shut and sliding a bar into place. A loud bang sounded as something - or someone - hurtled into the wood. The door shook with the force of it, so powerfully that Brienne feared it would come off the frame.

Arya squeezed by them, her breath heavy. “That was close. It won’t hold him for long.”

With urgency fuelling their every move, they descended the steps. Brienne faltered a few times, but kept herself upright. Rhythmic pounding followed them, though the it quietened the lower they got. The Mountain was not giving in.

“Brienne, talk to me.” Jamie called.

“I’m fine.” She assured him. “Just keep moving.”

Brienne held the goal in her mind, focusing on each individual task. _Reach the bottom of the stairs. Run to the passage. Move through the tunnels. Don’t fall. Just breath. Keep moving forward._ _Follow Jamie._

She could no longer process her surroundings. Nothing mattered except the next step.

_Slap, slap, slap._

Because of this it took her longer than it should have to realise that they were bathed in moonlight, out in the open sky, water lapping at their feet. She stood still, numb, as Jamie lowered Tyrion in the boat, Arya getting in beside him.

Hands directed her towards the boat. Jamie’s. Hand then.

Everything was out of focus, distorted. Everything was disconnected in her head.

“Brienne, snap out of it. We’re out. Get in the fucking boat!” The words were shouted in her face. How dare he raise his voice to her like that?

Irritated, her eyes narrowed at him. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

“Fucking move!”

She pushed away from him, stomping towards the boat. Getting on that vessel was the last thing she wished to do after the way she’d reacted on their way into keep, but she did it because Jamie had asked. Well, demanded.

It was only when she was on the boat, when they were a distance away, that she truly comprehended that they had done it. They’d escaped. Brienne looked down at her hands and found Jamie’s entwined with hers.

“Look.” Arya said, pointing in the direction they’d come from. A huge figure emerged from the rocks. Screaming in frustration, the Mountain hammered his fist against the ground, falling to his knees.

“Gods.” Jamie muttered, “He would have crushed us.”

Neither she nor Arya spoke, both contemplating what would have happened if luck had not been on their side. If Jamie and Arya hadn’t come for her.

Arya began to paddle in the calm waters, “Where are we going? I doubt Daenerys has started the attack on the Iron Fleet yet. She’ll still be in camp.”

Jamie was silent for a moment. “We don’t have a choice. Tyrion and Brienne need a healer. We have to go back.”

Brienne placed a hand on his knee. “She will kill you.”

“Perhaps not.” Arya said thoughtfully. “We’ve just eliminated her greatest enemy. Whilst she may not trust you, I doubt she’d go directly against me. Jon will believe me, that may be enough to sway her.”

“The risk is too great.” Brienne objected, her mind clearing, pain flooding back into her bones. “We can go somewhere else for aid.”

“Where?” Jamie asked, “Who do we trust? How do we get there in time? Tyrion is still her Hand whether she likes it or not. She can’t turn him away.”

“Jamie…” Brienne began, hating the idea of walking back into the camp and being at the Targaryen’s mercy.

“Listen to him.” This came from Arya of all people. “You’re in no condition to be walking or riding anywhere. Think of…”

Brienne cut her off, ignoring Jamie’s perplexed expression. “Fine.”

“Then we’re agreed.” He said, rubbing his hand along her thigh. “Do you really think I’d allow her to kill me after enduring all that? The risk we just took will be worth it.”

“What if she can’t be reasoned with?” It was a possibility. With all the talk of madness infecting her mind it was a clear possibility. “We can go back and meet up with you after.” She was clutching at straws, desperate to find a way to eradicate the threat to him.

“And after that? Whether we like it or not, she will be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. If we want to live out our days in peace, we have to deal with this now. I won’t hide for the rest of my life, and I’ll not allow you to either. What kind of like would that be for us? For our children?”

Her composure splintered at the mention of their children. He was right, she knew he was right. If they were to have the kind of life that they’d imagined, they would have to face the problem of Daenerys Targaryen head on.

They could be bringing a child into this world sooner than expected. If that was the case, the matter had to be resolved. Living in fear would leave them strained, weary. The only way to move forward was to put the past behind them.

The question was, how did they make the Dragon Queen see that?

Brienne had no answer, but she was beginning to believe that they could accomplish anything. The last half an hour had proven that.

“We go back to camp.” She declared. Jamie deserved better than living in the shadows, stripped of his title and lands. They would find a way to make it work.

Arya nodded, “You have my support. You do realise we may have just saved thousands of lives?”

Brienne straightened, staggered by the idea. “There’s no need for a battle with Cersei gone.”

“Euron Greyjoy may still pose a threat.” Jamie considered, thinking of the man’s hunger for power. “And she’ll need to deal with the monstrosity that we just escaped, but you’re right.”

“Maybe. It’s a precarious situation; I think she’s lost sight of why she began her campaign. I hope that Jon can make her see that theirs is a better path.”

They sailed in silence for a couple of minutes before Jamie broke it, “Arya, what did Cersei say to you before she died?”

Brienne detected a hint of unease in Arya’s eyes, but her voice was strong when she answered. “She asked me what I had done to protect and avenge my family, what I was willing to do. When I answered, she asked me how that made us any different.”

Undisputable pain flashed through Jamie’s eyes. “Was that all?”

“I told her that perhaps it didn’t. I don’t know the answer. I’ll consider it for the rest of my life.” It unsettled her, Brienne realised, to be face with that question. If everything Jon had relayed to them was true, Arya had committed her share of sins. They all had.

Whose judgement was it that they would all face? Each other’s, the Gods’?

“The difference is she never tried to be anything other than what she was.” Jamie said, eyes downcast. “Never tried to be better. She let greed consume her and take the lives of our children. She may have began trying to protect her family, but it twisted into a darkness that eroded anything redeemable inside of her.”

Brienne squeezed his hand, offering comfort. “That’s not you.” Brienne told Arya, hoping to alleviate any doubts in her mind.

“It could have been.” She said quietly.

“No one survives war unscathed. We can only try to heal and find a sense of peace. We may have just saved a lot of people the burden of carrying that.”

There was no warning at all. One moment she was talking to Arya, and the next her head hung out the side of the boat, her stomach rebelling. The last bout of sickness had depleted all the food from her belly, so the gags were dry heaves that scratched at her raw throat.

“What in the hells?” Jamie shouted, his hand resting on her back.

She simply shook her head, unable to muster a response, all of her energy draining. Could she get away with blaming the sickness on the events of the last few hours?

 

 


	25. Facing The Music

 

A few moments after entering camp they were detained by the unsullied and taken to the tent he’d shared with Brienne before handing himself over to Cersei. He’d handed Tyrion over to one of the stony faced soldiers, going to Brienne’s side.

After some threats from both himself and Arya, a healer had been sent to tend to their injuries. Brienne insisted that Tyrion be seen to first so he ordered another pallet to be brought into in so they could both rest. Maddeningly, the healer couldn’t give him a reliable answer for Tyrion’s prognosis.

The cuts on his body were sowed together, but he still remained unconsciousness, leaving Jamie with little hope. All that was left to do was wait for him to wake.

The healer had just finished closing the wound on Brienne’s cheek when Jon Snow strode in, face grim. A spark of relief touched his eyes when they landed on his sister, but his expression was quickly masked. On his heels was the Targaryen, her commander and Ser Davos.

Jamie’s blood chilled when the Queen’s eyes met his, the promise of punishment blazing in the unusual colour. Fuck her. He refused to be put to death after everything just risked to save his life.

“How’s my Hand?” Daenerys asked, clasping her hands in front of her.

“You care about his condition now?” Jamie asked without humour. “You were willing to let him rot in that cell an hour ago.”

She merely raised a brow, unperturbed by his outburst. Jon sighed whilst Brienne clamped a hand over his wrist. Yes, he wanted to live, but he would not offer false niceties. He couldn’t change the core of himself, the man who spoke before thinking a fair amount of the time.

Jon turned to his sister. “Are you going to explain what happened?”

Arya shrugged, “We killed Cersei and rescued Tyrion. Is there anything else you’d like to know?”

Shock flowered on their faces. Davos recovered first. “She’s dead?”

Jamie inclined his head. “Yes.”

There were several moments whilst the news was digested. Daenerys spoke next. “Am I expected to believe that you killed your sister? I’ve heard the rumours regarding your relationship.”

Arya took a step forward. “I killed her. He helped. I’m no liar.”

“You’ve allied yourself with a traitor, why should I trust your word?”

Jon positioned himself between the women causing Greyworm to take a deliberate stance closer to his Queen. “If she says she killed her, she did.”

Jamie sensed the spike in tension as the young couple locked eyes, clashing in a battle of wills that sent a charged waved of energy rolling through the enclosed space. It felt as though the rest of them were intruders on a private moment.

Jon’s words were quiet, but distinguishable. “If you want to rule different than those who have come before you, you must learn how to trust.”

“They defied my orders.” Her eyes flared with molten heat. “You defied my orders by allowing him back in King’s Landing. My anger is justified.”

“Maybe.” Jon responded, “But you can’t let it control you. Yes, we defied your orders, but it has put us in a good position. You can take the city without unnecessary causalities. The people will thank you for it.”

“You make it sound so simple.” Her voice was without inflection, her expression unreadable.

“It can be if you let go of the anger. You have everything you wanted within your grasp.”

Looking directly into his eyes, she whispered, “Not everything.”

Who did, Jamie thought. It was a childish notion to believe you could have it all without sacrifice. His gaze slid to Brienne, who worked diligently to remain upright. Her nobility would be the death of her.

Jamie turned to his wife, lowering his voice. “Sit down before you fall.”

Her jaw clenched at the instruction, but she did take a seat, revealing how much her injuries had taken out of her. Running through the keep like a lunatic had surely worsened them. Jamie laid a hand on her shoulder, smiling when she closed hers over his. A public display of her loyalty.

Daenerys tore her eyes away from Jon and looked towards them. “You married.”

“Yes.” Brienne said with pride. Gods, he could kiss her right on the lips in front of them all. She conveyed a challenged, daring the queen to question her sanity.

“You have put me in a difficult position, all of you. You think I’m unaware of the whispers surrounding my mind. I know what people are saying about me and if I act rashly, I will only prove them right. Each decision I’ve made so far has been deliberate, I want to be a just ruler, but betrayal won’t be tolerated.” She paused, “I need to think on this.”

“And what of King’s Landing?” Arya asked, “Is the attack off?”

“I will give them the opportunity to surrender.”

Incensed, Arya lost her temper. “And if they don’t? You’ll just execute them? These people are not slaves who have been mistreated by their master. Most of them are poor yes, had no love for Cersei, but they were suffering no more than the poor subjects of any other king or queen. They did not need to be liberated. They see you as a foreign invader, here to take the crown by force, uncaring of the cost to them.”

“The Iron Throne is my birth right.” Daenerys said in a steely tone.

Arya disagreed. “We both know Jon’s claim is greater than yours. He doesn’t want it and won’t challenge you for it, but if you anger enough people in Westeros they will find a way to depose you. Dragons or not dragons. Everyone else is too fearful to say it to your face, but you need to tread carefully. You say you want to rid the world of tyrants and yet your sense of entitlement verges dangerously close to that territory. As Jon said, you have it all at the moment, but that could all change.”

Flames danced between them. “Are you threatening me?”

“Just giving you advice.”

“Arya.” Jon cautioned, “That’s enough.”

“What?” She spared him a glance. “If she wants to rule Westeros, she has to understand her previous tactics won’t work.

“I assure you they will.” The Queen said with confidence, “I’ve suffered through too much, lost too much to retreat now.”

“Do you think you’re the only one to suffer? Why is your pain any worse than the families you would destroy by mounting a pointless attack on King’s Landing. If you were truly concerned about their welfare, you wouldn’t even consider the option. The word hypocrite comes to mind.”

Jamie listened to the verbal battle, undeniably impressed with Arya whilst simultaneously wishing she would shut the fuck up. She was pushing Daenerys too far, becoming caught in her own ire.

He cleared his throat, giving his best impression of an entitled lord of the realm. “Do you think you could take this elsewhere? My wife needs to rest, she sustained serious injuries helping to defeat your enemy.”

“Yes.” Davos concurred quickly, pouncing on the idea. “I think we all have enough to think about. Jamie can remain under guard until a decision is reached. Tempers are frayed, nothing will be accomplished at present.”

“I’m going for a walk. Alone.” Arya stated, making it clear there would be no guard trailing behind her. Before she left, she whispered something in Brienne’s ear, shooting him a secretive smile.

What was she playing at?

Daernerys stormed out, following by Greyworm and a reluctant Jon, leaving Davos. “Fucking hell. I thought Arya was about to run her through with that tiny blade.”

She certainly could, Jamie admitted. For some reason though, she didn’t want her to have to bear that burden. Jon was obviously still torn, and he may never forgive her. Arya had helped save his life, helped saved Brienne, he would be indebted to her for the rest of his days.

That was it. He certainly wasn’t gaining any kind of affection for the little wolf.

“It seemed that way.” Brienne agreed.

Davos smiled at them. “Well, I’m glad to see you both back intact.”

“Thank you for keeping our departure to yourself.” Brienne said, wincing as she shifted her body.

“Lay down.” Jamie met her stormy eyes with his, unwilling to back down on this. Once again, her face was battered and he’d been unable to prevent it. Once again, she could barely move from a beating he’d been unable to prevent. He resisted the urge to vent his frustrations, well aware Brienne wouldn’t appreciate the direction of his thoughts.

“I’ll leave you to it. Do as your husband says and get some rest.”

Brienne scowled at the man’s back as he exited the tent. Finally, they were alone, with the exception of a comatose Tyrion. Jamie ignored the pang in his chest at the sight of his brother’s still body and stripped out of his outer clothing.

Lowering himself next to Brienne, he studied the slice on her cheek. It would leave a scar. Another one to add to the growing number. No more, he thought.

“Talk to me.” There were so many questions to ask. So much he wanted to say. “How are you really feeling?”

Her eyes were skyward, picking apart the ceiling of the tent. “I honestly don’t know.” She tilted her head towards him, “I’m glad to have you back. There were times I thought I would never see you again.”

“Thank you for saving Tyrion.” Emotion dripped from his words.

Her face dropped, “I was too late to be of any use. When I did arrive, I was careless and let them overpower me. You had to put yourself in danger to save me, again.”

“Don’t say that, Brienne. Without your intervention, he would be dead.”

She shook her head, changing the subject. “How are you?”

“I don’t regret Cersei’s death if that’s what you mean. Maybe I’ll feel differently once it sinks in but, at the moment there’s no guilt. She was delusional. Seeing her again confirm what I already knew to be true; the woman I once loved was gone, ripped out by the monster that resided in her at the end.”

Brienne brought her hand to his face. “You can always talk to me about her.”

He closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of her touch. “I know and I thank you, but for now, I just need to forget.” He fingered her hair, “What did Arya say to you before she left? She looked like she was up to something.”

A troubling look crossed Brienne’s face, her breath stilling, alarming him.

“What is it?” Jamie questioned, fearing the worst. “Please don’t tell me she’s potting to kill the Dragon Queen now.”

Brienne relaxed, obviously amused by the idea. “Nothing like that.”

“Then what?” Her hesitation was concerning to say the least. “Brienne.”

“I…she told me to reveal something to you.”

He frowned, completely lost now. “What?”

“Please let me finish before you say a word. When Arya and I were sailing to the hidden entrance to the keep I became sick and she asked – I think as a joke to begin with – if I could be pregnant. I never get seasick. And we haven’t been careful so it occurred to me that I could be with child. Why hadn’t truly considered the possibility before, I don’t know.” A long exhale of breath. “I have been feeling different lately, tiring more easily. More emotional, though I don’t want to admit it.”

“Brienne.” He uttered, his throat constricting painfully.

“She told me to tell you our suspicions, but after what I’ve just gone through…I’m worried, Jamie. I tried to protect my stomach as much as possible.” Eyes watering, her face crumpled. “Or what if I was wrong and I’m not? Either way, I can’t stand it.”

A shard of glass stabbed straight into his heart, the agony of it squeezing his insides. Pushing himself up, he leaned over her, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Whatever happens, we’ll get through it together. Is there any pain?”

It gutted him to see her this way. Her heart was as huge as her sense of honour; losing a child would destroy her. It would fucking destroy him.

“Mostly on my ribs and upper back.”

“As soon as you’re able to travel, we’ll see a maester. An experienced one should be able to examine you and give us an answer. Until then, you need to rest, recover. I won’t leave your side. Any child of ours would not give up without a fight, don’t forget that.”

She nodded, tears still rolling onto the thin pillow. He touched her lips with his, deepening the expression of love with a stroke of his tongue, conveying the depth of his emotion. He drew back with reluctance, concerned that he could be unwittingly causing her pain.

Returning to her side, he remained connected with her, clasping her hand. “Sleep now.”

She fell into slumber almost immediately, and he was grateful that the sleep would give her some relief from the physical and emotional pain. Eyeing her stomach, he couldn’t help but pray that their child was nestled safety inside her womb.

A part of him wanted to rage at her for taking such risks if she thought she may be pregnant, but he didn’t have it inside to cause her anymore torment. She was already blaming herself; he should have realised when she admitted she’d been careless with her own life.

How many times had he said it to her in the past, in the last month and she’d blatantly ignored him? Now she was all too ready to accept guilt and irresponsibility. He wouldn’t allow her to wallow in it, no matter what happened.

She’d done a selfless thing following his brother into that dungeon. But her days of running into a fight were limited; his heart simply couldn't take it anymore. He always thought it was difficult to love a woman like Cersei. She always held a piece of herself away from him and it had driven him crazy. In a way, loving Brienne was harder.

He didn’t think it was possible, but everyday he fell deeper into her spell, his love for her maturing into a vital part of very being that he could never live without. That was what made it so damn hard. She placed no value on her own life and he would wither without her. Where was his own sense of self-preservation? Vanished completely since accepted his feelings for her.

It was his job to ensure that she recognised her own worth and he vowed to spend the rest of his life doing so.

Releasing her hand, he lowered it to her stomach.

 _Please be in there. Please be_ safe _in there._

_You’re already loved. Wanted. Cherished._


	26. The Price

Brienne woke to the sound of a quiet conversation.

Opening her eyes was a great effort; she had to blink her heavy lids for a several moments before her vision cleared. She laid still, taking an assessment of her injuries and the pain that came with them.

She imagined her condition was something to akin as if she had fallen from her horse and into a large ditched, lined with rocks. Her body was sore and tender, but her mind was much clearer than it had been the previous day which she was thankful for.

With care, she turned on her side to survey the tent, smile blooming when she realised the voices belonged to Jamie and Tyrion. In comparison to Jamie’s strong timbre, Tyrion’s voice was fragile, almost inaudible. Jamie’s back was to her, his form concealing much of Tyrion’s body from view.

Hesitant to disturb them, Brienne placed a hand beneath her cheek, remaining in bed. Jamie deserved to have some time alone with his brother, unburdened by tender to her. It also gave her the chance to have a solitary moment to consider the events of the past few days.

When they had departed from Winterfell all those weeks ago, she had never imagined that Jamie would play a hand in Cersei’s death. To think of how worried she had been that he would run straight back into her arms the moment the opportunity presented itself. Instead, he’d done the opposite, helping Arya in her mission to kill his twin.

Was it a betrayal to admit that it shocked her?

On the boat, Arya had recounted the story to her and all Brienne could do was state at Jamie in utter surprise. What had been going through his mind when Cersei had begged him for aid? He had a will made of stone, she had always known that, but to hand his sister over to her killer wasn’t an act Brienne thought him capable of.

Even when Arya had relayed the plan to her, she had simply assumed that Jamie would only be used to lure Cersei there, that somehow he would find a way to have minimal involvement. No matter how much commitment he’d shown, he would need to mourn her.

As if he could hear her thoughts, Jamie glanced over his shoulder, smiling when he saw that she was awake. Murmuring something to Tyrion, he walked over to her and perched himself on the edge of the bed.

“You look terrible.”

She leant into his touch. “I’m sure you’re telling the truth. Tyrion’s awake.” She said with joy, watching Jamie’s eyes light up as they roamed over his brother who had promptly fallen back to sleep.

“Yes. He’s weak, barely able to keep his eyes open, but I’m taking his consciousness as a good sign. I’m waiting for the healer to come and check him over; apparently he got delayed by a brawl between two northern men. Tyrion said to tell you thank you.”

Uncomfortable with the gratitude, she simply nodded. “Any word about what’s happening out there?”

“All I know is that there has been no attack on the city so far. I expect we’ll be updated when someone remembers that we’re here.”

Brienne bit her lip nervously. “What do you think is going to happen?”

Her husband shrugged. “No idea. If she wants to rule without opposition, she has to win over the people and the prominent families so it all depends on whether she cares about gaining their support or whether she wants to rule through fear. Her dragons could eat us all alive yet.”

What an unpleasant thought.

“I think she cares more than she would like to admit.” Brienne said, remembering the times she’d seen the unguarded expressions on her young face. The moments of longing, of doubt. The woman held tremendous power, but beneath it all she was still as fragile as the rest of them. More so. “Perhaps that's just wishful thinking though.”

“Wishful thinking from Brienne of Tarth? I thought she dealt only in practicalities.”

“She used to.” Brienne agreed, entertained. “But then she married Jamie Lannister and his delusional tendencies began to rub off on her.”

Jamie chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Very well said, wife. Are you hungry? Food was brought in only half an hour ago.”

“Starved actually.” She confessed, mouth watering at the prospect of food. “I’ll eat and then I need to get myself cleaned up. I’m disgusting.” Her nose wrinkled.

“I’ll get your food and ask someone to bring some water in so that you can wash.”

With some difficulty she pushed herself into a sitting position, gratefully accepting a plate of bread and cheese from Jamie. She wolfed the meal down, absolutely ravenous. Jamie watched her with amusement, eyes glowing.

“Staring at me whilst I eat is a little off-putting.” She said between bites.

His tone was serious tone as he said, “I’ve missed you. Missed talking to you. Missed looking at you. Missed watching you eat. I was so fucking scared that I’d never see you again.”

Grasping his hand, she set the plate aside. “It’s okay. We’re back together now.” She brought his hand up to her lips, held it there for a moment.

“I know, I just can’t help but feel that we got off too easily. We should have died in that place. I’m worried about the price we’ll have to pay for surviving.”

Worried about the direction of his thoughts, Brienne challenged them. “We survived because we had a deadly ally, because you did what was necessary. I survived because you came for me. Our own actions made it possible to come out of there alive.”

“Logically I know that to be true. My gut says different.” He said grimly.

“Nothing has been simple in recent years; every victory has come with a defeat for all involved in the strife. It’s time to let go of that expectation – we’re okay. There’s no price to pay.”

He was silent for a moment before speaking. “I’m being stupid, ignore me.”

“You can talk to me about anything.” She promised. “I’ll never call you stupid.”

A broad grin broke out across his face. “I’m sure that’s a lie.”

“You’re probably right about that.” She would call him a thousand names before their life was finished together, if not more. He did have a knack for getting under her skin like nobody else.

An hour later, Jamie was helping her bathe. She’d been reluctant to undress in the tent, worried that Tyrion would wake, but Jamie had insisted that he would not allow his amorous brother to see her naked. She chose to believe that he was being serious about that statement because she truly needed a wash.

Air brushed across her bare skin as she stood next to the bed. She shivered in reaction to Jamie’s gentle touch, the caress of the cloth. Astoundingly, desire sparked to life. There was little she could do about it in her current condition, but the now familiar sensation was strangely comforting.

“Gods, Brienne.” He hissed when he began cleaning her back; his fingertips trailed across a patch of skin. “These bruises are black. Vicious. I’ll be careful.”

Continuing his thorough wash-down, Brienne stayed still, keeping her winces to a minimum. She didn’t want him to stop, the intimacy was soothing the emotional cuts inside her body. After spending over a month inseparable, the last four days felt like an age. Like he hadn’t touched her in a year.

They had come such a long way from that night at Winterfell, both bolstered by the drinks they’d consumed. She had given herself to him because she wanted to, however, she hadn’t imagined anything beyond that one night. She certainly hadn’t considered that they would be married, that she would feel safe enough in his company to be vulnerable. To reveal the fractures that life had left on her heart.

Before that night, she had loved him from a far. At times, it had been gut-wrenching. The Dragon Pit came to mind. Watching as he stood by Cersei, the picture of loyalty. She had been so angry at him without really understanding or wanting to acknowledge why.

She had been jealous. Envious that Cersei had his love when it was clear to so many that she didn’t truly value it. Now that _she_ had his love, she treasured nothing more. She had always known she would, which was why it had been so painful to see him waste it on such an unworthy woman.

Of course, Brienne had never permitted herself to truly believe, even for a second, that they stood a chance. She’d never believed that Jamie would break away from Cersei of his own free will and choose her.

It was ludicrous, but it was now reality. And she would thank the Gods’ for the peculiar twists of fate until she drew her last breath.

“Brienne, where have you gone?” Jamie’s voice pulled her from her thoughts.

“I was just thinking about us – about how we begun and where we are now.”

A sombre smile. “I was vile to you.”

Unable to bear his self-disgust, she reminded him of an important fact. “I returned your insults, don’t forget.”

With once last swipe of the cloth, he gave her rump a pat. “How could I? I think we’re done here.”

She assessed his work, satisfied. “Thank you. I don’t think I could have managed that myself.”

“I’m always willing to bathe you.” He threw the cloth in the basin. “All you have to do is ask.”

A scoff. “I believe it is you who is obsessed with cleaning me. You’ve spoken of little else since we left the North.”

“And I still haven’t been able to do it properly. This doesn’t count – it’s a necessity which removes the seductive element.”

Brienne laughed. “As soon as I’m well enough, I’ll be demanding your services.”

Jamie helped her into fresh clothing and guided her towards the bed. She sighed, hating the thought of spending another minute in the blasted thing. With everything that was going on beyond the flimsy walls of the tent, she should be doing something. Anything other than laying in bed like an invalid.

“There was no bleeding.” She said quietly, referring to the one subject that they’d avoided since she’d awoken.

He stilled. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Though she was no expert on the matter.

Now that she was of a clearer mind, she also had to consider the possibility that there was no child at all. All the signs pointed to her being pregnant, but she had to take a step back. If she was, the life would make itself undeniably known sooner rather than later.

And if she wasn’t, they had time to have children. Either way, she cast her mind back to Jamie’s word. They would get through it together; of that she had no doubt.

“Do you think we’d be good parents?” She asked, curious to know his answer.

“I never got the chance to be a parent to my children, forced to watch as a man I could barely stand raised them as his own. It was a kind of torture. After Myrcella died, I vowed to myself that the next child I had I would be the best father I could. For a time, I thought that child would be with Cersei. I’m glad that it wasn’t because the only woman I want to have children with it you.” Bright eyes shone at her, “You’re good, Brienne. I don’t know how you’ve maintained your morality in these times, but those are the lessons I want my children to learn. So I don’t know whether I’ll be of any use, but I can guarantee that you’ll be an excellent mother.”

Emotion poured into her heart, filling it with the sweetest kind of pain. “You put me on a pedestal.”

“Only because you deserve it.” She doubted that.

“You’ll be a wonderful father, Jamie. Please believe that.”

“All my children died.” He said with an agony that tore at her.

Clutching at his face, she implored him to listen to her. “Those were different circumstances. Any children we have will bear your name; they will be raised by us. Protected by us. They will not be taken from you prematurely.” They would be no where near the Throne, being used as pawns in political games.

“I love you. You always know how to ease my suffering.”

 _Jamie._ He could break her heart using only a few words. “I also know how to cause it, so stop berating yourself. Our life together will be a new beginning for us both.”

“Providing Daenerys doesn’t burn me alive.” He teased.

“Don’t jest about that.” She ordered, going from completely captivated by him to annoyed in a matter of seconds. A sign of true love, she mused.

“I apologise.” He cast his eyes towards Tyrion. “Are you going to be alright without me for a while? The healer still hadn’t appeared so I need to convince the guards to escort me to his location so I can beat the shit out of him.”

A horrible thought struck Brienne. “What if he had walked in whilst I was undressed?”

Jamie’s amusement grated on her nerves. “I’m sure he would have been a gentleman and pretended it never happened.”

Brienne swatted his bicep, “Go. Go away before I do more than give you a gentle tap on the arm.”

He gave a quick kiss and walked over to Tyrion to check on his condition before departing. Brienne lowered herself further into the bed, a pleasant kind of exhaustion settling over her. The activity of the last couple of hours had taken its toll and sleep was beckoning.

Her eyes flew open at Jamie’s distress. “No!”

Brienne sailed up in the bed, frowning as she looked over to where he stood. He turned, meeting her concerned gaze, blood draining from his face.

“He’s not breathing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :(


	27. Shock

Jamie stared blankly ahead, distantly aware of King’s Landing spread across the landscape. He had little memory of running through camp, guards following closely behind, only seeking to get as far away from the words that had shredded him down to the core.

_I’m sorry, my Lord. He’s dead. There is nothing I can do for him. He is in the Gods’ hands now._

Tyrion was dead.

Jamie had raged at the healer, threatening him with bodily harm, grabbing him by the throat, demanding that he do _something._ He had shrugged off Brienne’s touch, refusing to be soothed by her words. He didn’t want them; he wanted his brother alive and well. For someone to tell him that there had been a mistake. Even she couldn’t give him that.

So he had left , seeking solitude. Unable to bear the sight of Tyrion’s lifeless body. All that intelligence, the humour, all of what made him Tyrion, gone in an instant. How was that possible? How was that fair? Why allow him to escape the keep, only to tear him away?

Only a few hours ago they had shared a conversation. A renewed sense of hope had filled him when he’d witnessed Tyrion eyes open after being closed for so long. He thought back to that talk, had he missed something vital?

 

_Jamie rushed to Tyrion as a cough escape his chest. “You’re awake.”_

_“It would seem so. Where are we?” His words were laboured, but clear. Sweat sheened on his skin from the effort of talking._

_“At Jon’s camp. Your Queen is here too.” He poured some water and pressed the cup to Tyrion’s lips. “Drink.”_

_Tyrion did as instructed, though could only swallow a few sips. “Brienne, is she…?” Worry coated his tone. It warmed him that his brother cared for Brienne, as jaded as he was._

_Jamie smiled, “She’s seen better days, but she’ll be fine. She’s strong.”_

_“I told her to run. I was ready to accept my fate.”_

_“She’s not one to give up on a lost cause. She married me.” He said making light of the situation._

_“True.” A weak smile followed. “And what of Cersei?”_

_“Dead.”_

_A myriad of emotion crossed over his features. “There was a part of me that thought her invincible, the she’d be fucking with us for the rest of our lives.”_

_“She’s gone.” He confirmed, scarcely able to digest it himself._

_“With her gone, there may be hope for Daenerys after all.”_

_Jamie wasn’t convinced about that. “Perhaps.”_

_A heavy sigh. “I can rest easier knowing that world has a chance of not turning to shit.”_

_“I think we passed point long ago.” Jamie countered. All the bloodshed and war had left Westeros devastated, fractured in a way that would take centuries to repair._

_“Yes, you’re right. Still, I have faith that Daenerys will remember the true objective she set out to achieve.”_

_“I pray that your correct.” For all their sakes. His life hung in the balance, but it was insignificant in comparison to the desolation she could cause if she unleashed the wrath that burned inside of her._

_Tyrion fumbled for his hand, meeting his eye. “Thank you for coming in after me. Thank Brienne for saving my life; she was terrifying courageous.”_

_Terrifyingly courageous. An apt description._

_“After all the times I failed you, I couldn’t leave you in her clutches.”_

_Tyrion protested, his energy quickly sapping “You were the only one who ever tried to protect me.”_

_Jamie stopped the arguments before they could leave his mouth. Tyrion needed to sleep, to heal. They didn’t need to torment themselves over a past that neither of them could alter. The future, however, gave them the opportunity to start anew._

_Squeezing Tyrion’s hand, he threw a look over his shoulder, glad to find Brienne awake. He rose, bend his head to his brother, “Rest. We’ll watch over you.”_

And they had, with Jamie frequently checking on Tyrion’s sleeping form, observing nothing out of the ordinary.

Tears freely rolled down his cheeks; he didn’t have the energy to wipe them away. Had it been a blessing or cruelty to have that final conversation? There had been a thousand words left unsaid on the assumption that they would have plenty of time to be spoken.

But he had been given the gift of speaking to his brother one last time. It was a gift and he would treasure it for the rest of his days.

He had considered death many times, he had faced it on more than one occasion. What he had never considered was the prospect of being left as the only remaining Lannister of his branch of the family.

A crushing weight pushed against his chest. Tyrion was supposed to survive with him; he’d been the best of them. There was no sense in his death, no reason for it. Tyrion would have found a way to be of use, to guide Westeros out of the dark period into one of prosperity.

Instead, the world was left with him. A one-handed, selfish bastard who only thought of himself. He fisted his hand and pounded it into the dry ground, an outlet for his useless frustration. His fury at the Gods’. Taking Tyrion served no purpose!

A shadow fell over him causing him to cast his eyes upwards. Even in the haze that had settled deep into his mind, he was surprised at the identity of shadow caster. The Dragon Queen herself. Without invitation, she took a seat next to him, unperturbed by the dirt. Too consumed by grief, he simply ignored her.

She seemed content to sit in silence, following his gaze to the dragons soaring in the distance. The majestic creatures were the epitome of deadly beauty.

“All my life I thought you a callous monster for killing my father in the manner that you did, but I’ve had opportunity to watch you with your brother, with Lady Brienne. You are not the unfeeling man I assumed you were.”

How he longed to be exactly that at this very moment.

“Tyrion was an imperfect man, but I will miss him greatly. I’ve lost too many friends of late and I will not soil their memory by becoming the very tyrants I vowed to fight against. Jorah, Tyrion, Missandei – they all believed in me. Not my armies, not my dragons. They believed in me.” Her voice clogged with emotion. “Arya was right yesterday, we have all lost too much and this fresh blow has cemented my resolve. The people deserve a ruler that cares about _their_ suffering.”

Despite his best intentions, Jamie found himself drawn in by her words. “Do you?”

“Yes. I realise that I allowed myself to be consumed by power. By greed. I allowed my own values to slip away the closer I got to the throne.”

“Power has a nasty habit of corrupting.” He seen it with his father, with Cersei. Joffrey.

A far away look entered her eye. “I’ve been fighting for so long, I’m afraid I’ve forgotten how to live in peace.” She whispered.

Jamie slid her a glance. “If we don’t find a way, we may as well have let the dead finish us all. Tyrion had faith in you.” A wave of fresh agony crashed into his soul. “Why are you telling me this?” He asked with an edge of anger. He was the last person she should confide in and now, of all times.

She drew her knees up to her chest, appearing closer to the young age he knew her to be. “Because Jon was right too. It’s all within my grasp, but I will lose it, lose everything, if I cannot free myself from the anger that has taken root. I’m starting with you as my last act of friendship towards Tyrion and,” she studied him, “You’re not what I expected. I suspect your wife is to thank for that.”

Entirely. “Does this mean I get to live?” It would bring him little joy at present, but he would be grateful for it in the future.

“Yes.” A firm set of the jaw. “But I warn you, if you make a move against me, I will assume that Brienne is also involved as you are as thick as thieves. I’ll let my dragons have you both.”

Jamie fought his first instinct to strangle the queen; nobody would harm Brienne, but sense won out. She had conceded when she didn’t have to and her threat was just that, a threat, because he would never be going anywhere near the throne again.

It was also very astute of her; she had assessed his weaknesses and would use them to keep him in check. A trait of a good ruler.

“You have nothing to worry about from me. If I have my way, Brienne and I will disappear for many years.”

She smiled. “That suits me just fine. Your family lands will remain in your possession so you will still be a lord of the realm. I may need your support from time to time.”

A humourless laugh escaped. “My support won’t sway anyone in your favour. In case you’ve forgotten I’m the Kingslayer. I then betrayed my own family by defecting to the other side. I believe I’ve managed to anger every person in Westeros in one way or another.”

“You’re underestimating how far you have come. The Notherners may not entirely trust you yet, but you allied with them against the greatest threat to our kind. With Brienne by your side, you’ll build bridges.”

Jamie eyed her, confused by her candour. “Have you bumped your head? You’ve certainly changed your tune from the last time we spoke.”

“I told you yesterday, I’m not mad. Every decision I made was a calculation, some of them paid off and some didn’t. Have you ever stopped to think that perhaps people simply cannot accept a woman can be as ruthless as a man? It doesn’t make us unhinged in anyway. Yes, my family has suffered from the affliction, but if you look at my actions objectively, I have done nothing out of character for someone in my position. I’ve admitted that power was an incredible lure. I was stubborn, afraid at times, but at the core, I _care_. Can you say the same for your sister?”

“She only cared about herself in the end. A part of me is beginning to think you played into the role, gave substance to the whispers.”

“No.” She insisted, “I didn’t but it was advantageous to have people fear me. It still is.”

“To a point. If you want to accomplish the peace we all wish for, fear will only get you so far. Tyrion knew that.”

“ _I_ know that. Make no mistake, I would have taken King’s Landing from Cersei if she had lived long enough and there would have been unavoidable causalities. That is the way of war, but as it’s been pointed out to me on numerous occasions by myself and others, that is no longer necessary. We can forge a new path.”

Jamie sighed, wrecked from the inside out. Daenerys words gave him hope; maybe Tyrion had been right to side with her. He’d always possessed a duel intelligence – intellect and emotion working together to give him the uncanny ability to understand a person within moments of making their acquaintance.

Daenerys was more complex than most and she was beautiful so he’d assumed Tyrion had been blinded by love he had never acknowledged. Maybe, just maybe, he had seen something worth believing inside of her, hidden beneath the prickly exterior.

It was just as likely that the madness had taken hold completely. Either way, they would all find out together.

She rose, patting the dust from her dress, “If it suits you, we will hold a ceremony for Tyrion this evening. I’m sorry that he won’t be with us on this new journey. I think he would have enjoyed it.”

“Thank you.” He said hoarsely, choked with emotion. He watched her leave, noting that she dismissed the two guards that had been stationed close by. His life was once again his own, for the first time in what seemed like years, his to do with what he pleased.

Losing Tyrion had come at the most ironic of times. They were finally free to rebuild their relationship and the possibility had been snatched away from them in the most brutal of ways. How did he accept that? Move on from that?

Not alone, was his first answer.

If he caved into himself, he would lose the most precious jewel he’d been given.

Brienne.

Brienne would be there to support him, give him a solid slap when the occasion arose. She wouldn’t allow him to fall into despair. Tyrion would have been the first to lambast him if he wallowed for too long.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Jamie pushed himself from the ground and went in search of his wife, desperate to feel the embrace of her strength. He would get through this just as he had survived everything else life had thrown at him.

But this time, he didn’t have to do it alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's highly unlikely that Jamie and Daenerys would ever see eye to eye, but I thought it would be interesting to explore it. Also, some good had to come from Tyrion's death!
> 
> Sorry if you're a Tyrion fan - so I am, but my hands a mind of their own and something compelled me to go through with it :/
> 
> Only a couple more chapters to go and there is going to be an epilogue, I love a good epilogue :)


	28. The Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Everyone, 
> 
> This is going to be the last chapter! There will be an epilogue with a bit of a time jump, but this is essentially the end :( Hope you enjoy it and I just wanted to say thank you so much for reading, it's been so fun to write this and it's made me realise how much I actually love writing when I get my teeth into a project. I've loved reading your comments so thank you for the feedback.
> 
> Look out for the epilogue in the next couple of days - I feel like I might struggle with it a tiny bit as I don't actually want it to end so may take a bit longer!

Two weeks had passed since Tyrion’s death. A service had been held for him on the same day and Brienne had stood by Jamie’s side as flames had taken Tyrion’s body, lifting his soul into another plane of existence. Jamie had held himself together in the presence of others, but as soon as they’d been alone, broken gasps of despair had taken hold of him.

It was in that moment Brienne had learned she was much more capable of experiencing pain than watching it consume the man she loved. She wrapped her arms him, cocooning him with all the strength she possessed.

In the days that followed, he had walked around in lethargy, barely acknowledging those around him. She allowed him space but ensured that he ate three meals a day, always watching from a short distance, ready to step in if he shattered again. Fortunately, his spirits had lifted somewhat in the last few days and relief had been a welcome sensation.

They’d had little involvement in the Queen’s effort to take the city, receiving updates from a number of sources including Ser Davos and Arya, two of their most frequent visitors. According to Arya, Euron Greyjoy had fled with the Iron Fleet. Understanding the potential threat he posed, Daenerys and Jon had taken the dragons and followed in pursuit.

Little information was given about the battle from either of them, however, if the rumours were true, Euron was dead and much of the fleet had surrendered and were on their way back to the Iron Islands where Yara Greyjoy awaited them.

As for King’s Landing, the city had fallen into a state of panic. Word of Cersei’s death had spread and rightfully concerned, the citizens were questioning what was to become of them. Daenerys, waiting until the time was right, had ridden Drogon into the city limits and began making her intentions known.

The men still loyal to Cersei had risen in rebellion so bloodshed had not been entirely unavoidable, but the deaths were calculated displays of power, meant to demonstrate how the Queen dealt with her enemies when they drew blades on her. No senseless violence. Clean, quick deaths.

Those acts had been followed by ones of good faith. Reorganisation of the city, the release of stores of desperately needed food. Daenerys was slowly taking control of the city, each day gaining more loyalty from the smallfolk.

It would take more than that to win over the people, to win over the nobility, but it gave Brienne hope. Jamie had recounted his conversation with the young queen and Brienne had to admit she had been less than optimistic. It seemed, that for now at least, she was staying true to her word.

And then there was the matter of Qyburn and the Mountain – they had disappeared. No sign of them anywhere in the keep or inside the city walls which was worrying to say the least. Where or how they had escaped was a mystery, but one that Daenerys was adamant she would uncover.

In an unsurprising move, Jon was set to return to the North once he had fulfilled his vow to Daenerys. Arya had told them he planned to join the wildings beyond the wall. After some thought on the matter, Brienne had concluded it was the best option for him.

His heritage would make it impossible for him to remain untangled from politics if he stayed in the south, or even at Winterfell. Those who refused to accept Daenerys rule would use him in their games and it was quite apparent after two minutes in his company, that he had no interest in becoming ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.

Brienne had also caught glimpses of him and the queen in conversation and it was evident there was still a deep connection between the pair, but circumstances meant that a lasting relationship between them was improbable. Too many obstacles. There was more to the story, Brienne was sure, so much more that would stay between the two of them. It saddened her. As much as Jamie could irritate her, she would not be without him.

Craving fresh air and sunlight, she slipped out of the tent and took a walk around the dwindling camp, pleased to find that her injuries were no longer hindering her in any way. Her body had been healing at a steady rate since the attack, in large part due to Jamie’s rigid instruction to do as little as activity as possible. Light walking and stretches had been permitted, thank the Gods’.

It amazed – and irritated her – that he been barely able to function and yet had still barked at her every time she moved in a way that he deemed would be harmful to her recovery. She was grateful for his care, she had even indulged him for the most part, but the restrictions were chafing against her independence. She required some freedom; just one of the reasons she had snuck away whilst he had been preoccupied reading a parchment from Casterly Rock.

“Brienne.” Arya called out from up ahead.

It struck Brienne how well Arya looked; there was a lightness to her that had been missing. Falling into step with her, Brienne greeted the other woman, ecstatic to have some company. “I haven’t seen you for a few days, how are you?”

“I’m well, thank you. I see your almost back to your full strength. Your movements are a lot easier.”

“Yes.” Brienne confirmed, “I plan on getting back to sparring next week.”

Arya hummed in her throat. “A pity I won’t be around to witness that particular discussion between you and your husband. I’m departing this afternoon.”

Frowning, Brienne asked “Are you returning to Winterfell?”

A coy smile. “Maybe. I left in a rush and now that things have settled here, I’m eager to get back. Let Sansa know that I survived the Dragon Queen.”

Sansa had been named Warden of the North, a title she deserved wholeheartedly. “She’ll be pleased to see you. Any chance your haste has to do with a certain recently legitimised lord?”

“Before I left he asked me to marry him.” Arya blurted out, the tips of her ears turning red. “I mean, I’m sure he was addled with drink, but I think he was serious and I turned him down.” She studied Brienne for a moment. “You’re not a lady. What I mean to say is that you’re not a lady in the traditional sense of the word. Yet you agreed to marry Jamie; weren’t you concerned about how that would impact your life? Your wants, your goals?”

Brienne considered her answer, understanding why a woman such as Arya would be troubled by such questions. “To be honest, those things never factored into my decision because I trusted that if he wished to marry me, he already knew that I would never be the stereotypical lady of the house. It took me a while to accept that he would love me, the woman who most men find repulsive, but he made me believe and once I did, I knew he wouldn’t want me to change to fit into a role that, quite frankly, is outdated. Do you believe Gendry would expect you to alter yourself to be with him?”

Arya laughed, “No.”

“I don’t get that impression either. Due to our stations, it wouldn’t have been out of the ordinary for either of us to be forced into an arranged union. We have the luxury of choosing who we want to spend the rest of our days with and we get to do that because of the lives we’ve created for ourselves. Traditional doesn’t apply to women like us. I expect Gendry is captivated by you because you are different. If he wanted a perfect lady, I’m certain he could find one. I would wager that he’s been sulking after you since the moment you left.”

“I hurt his feelings.” Arya said with a hint of shame.

“There’s a chance he doesn’t remember your rejection if he had knocked back enough ale.” Brienne joked, finding it peculiar that she, of all people, was giving out relationship advice. How times had changed.

“That is true. Either way I need to face him and make it clear I wasn’t just using him to take my virginity as I believed certain death awaited us all.”

Brienne choked, glancing around to ensure no one was listening. “Arya!”

She grinned. “I wasn’t.”

 Brienne laughed, always amused by Arya's particular brand of honesty. “I’m going to miss you. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you for what you did for us.” She halted, placing her hand on Arya’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

“I consider you apart of my family – I’ll always be here if you need me.”

Touched, Brienne drew her in for a long embrace. “The same applies to you. Send word and I’ll come.”

They shared a look of friendship, of loyalty, before Arya surprised Brienne by placing a hand on her mid-section. “You have a tough little cub in there. Congratulations.”

Brienne froze, wandering how far Arya’s power reached. Only this morning, she and Jamie had ventured into the city with an escort. A maester had confirmed her pregnancy sparking a wealth of emotion to bombard her system.

Relief. Fear. Joy. Doubt that she could actually be a mother. The list was endless. Jamie had been equally stunned, a pale hue washing over his features. With his recent loss, Brienne had thought it best to avoid mentioning the child. Or the possibility of one. In evading the subject, they had created a strange unspoken agreement in which a fragile peace existed.

Yesterday, Jamie had shattered it with an announcement that they would be paying a visit to the city. Brienne had been left reeling, fearing the outcome. It had taken hours for Jamie to calm her down and talk her around to the idea and convince her they needed to know one way or another. The limbo was a kind of torture that they could both do without

Needless to say, she had been overjoyed with the news. They had spent the rest of the morning speculating on the sex of the baby, what kind of temperament the child would have. Her good mood had been ruined by Jamie’s overbearing attitude regarding her safety.

Another reason she had slipped out when he was preoccupied.

“You’re sparring days are limited.” Arya continued, “I think Jamie will be winning the coming argument.”

The words sent a pang through her chest; her sparring days _were_ limited. As much as she would miss picking up a sword, it would be temporary and the gift she was receiving would far outweigh the discomfort of giving up a daily habit for a few months.

The child was a blessing. A miracle after all her body had endured. They were both beyond thrilled by the prospect of becoming parents, but there was no shame in admitting that she was apprehensive about the alterations that would have to be made to her life.

A worry for another time.

Brienne spent another couple of minutes saying goodbye to Arya, fighting hard to supress the tears. At least she could blame her unruly emotions on the baby now. She knew she was being ridiculous, she would make the effort to keep in touch with both of the Stark girls, but it was more difficult than she had anticipated, to part with her.

 

After bidding farewell to Arya, Brienne returned to the tent, surprised to find Jamie gone. He’d spent the majority of his time inside their private haven, away from prying eyes so it was unsettling to have him just vanish.

She was being ridiculous, she knew, but it had been excruciating to watch him in a state of grief and she’d been left feeling extremely protective of him. However, he was an adult, she reminded herself and so was she. Her eye stopped on Oathkeeper; if she was going to be unable to fight, she would at least ensure her weapon remained in excellent condition.

Ten minutes after her return, Jamie hurried the tent, appearing anxious. Upon seeing her, he scowled. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Where have you been?”

Brienne rested Oathkeeper on her lap, perplexed. “I went out for a walk.”

“You didn’t tell me you were leaving.”

“I was not aware I had to.” She said, voice beginning to chill. “Was I supposed to have asked for your permission?”

“Yes!” He shouted, stomping across the small space. “I would like to know where my pregnant wife is, who, by the way, is still recovering from serious injuries.”

The withdrawn Jamie from the last two weeks had disappeared; in his place, the most infuriating side of his personality was back with a vengeance. She was both pleased and annoyed by this, though annoyance was winning the battle.

“I’d urged you to reconsider your words.” She retorted, placing Oathkeeper back in its place.

“No, you are not permitted to be angry at me. You made me worry needlessly.”

Inwardly fuming, she kept a calm exterior, smiling sweetly. “As you require knowledge of my whereabouts, I’m informing you that I’m going for another walk and if you follow me, you’ll find a dagger lodged in your eye.” With that, she turned and stormed out of the tent.

Or she would have, if Jamie’s hand had not been curled around her arm. “Brienne, I was worried about you.”

She turned to him, angrily, “There are other ways to show your concern. My whole identity does not rest upon being your wife, or being with child. I needed fresh air, so I went for a walk.”

Jamie’s hand trailed down her arm and tangled with her own. “I’m sorry, I overreacted. It just seems as though every time I let you out of my sight, something terrible happens to you.”

“I was getting myself into scrapes long before I met you; I’ve always come through the other side.” As much as she was irritated by his irrational concern, she could understand it. All the people he held dear were gone except her.

“I’ll feel better when we’re in Tarth. This place, the city looming over us – they hold too many memories for me. I need to break away from them.”

“We can leave as soon as you want. The maester said I can travel.”

“He said you can, not that you should.”

She sighed, “Jamie, I want to go home and see my father. We can take the journey slowly.”

“What if you fall from your horse?”

She levelled him with a warning look. “When have you ever known me to fall from my horse? Are you going to be like this for the entirety of my pregnancy? If that’s the case, I’ll go to Tarth and you can remain here.”

He let go of her hand, glaring. “That is not funny.”

“It wasn’t meant to be.” She replied, “I’m serious.”

“Did you really just say that to me after everything we’ve been through to get this point?”

The hurt in his voice cut her down to the core. “Of course I want us to stay together, but you have to understand that I won’t be coddled.” It was ironic that she was having this conversation with him after declaring to Arya that she trusted Jamie would never try to change her.

She recognised that wasn’t his intention, but his overprotective attitude would amount to the same end if she gave into his every whim.

A long look passed between them. “Have some patience with me.” He pleaded. “I almost lost you. We could have lost our child. Tyrion is gone. I don’t want to be odds with you, but every instinct I possess is screaming at me to protect you.”

Brienne nodded; again he’d said exactly the right words to take the bluster from her. “I’ll try. In return, think about how your words are going to make me feel. You know I value my independence.”

His expression softened. “Yes, I do. I love that about you, even when it frustrates me beyond belief.” A pause, “If you want to leave for Tarth, we will. However, we will be taking some men with us and we will be traveling at a snail’s pace. You have to promise me that you’ll tell me if you become over exerted.”

“I will.” She swore, “I’ll be as cautious as you. I have no problem with that; my problem is with you bossing me around as if I’m under your command. I’m not, by the way.”

Jamie chuckled, a sign the tension between them had passed. “Oh, I’m aware of that. We both know who wears the crown in this relationship.”

Sexual need ignited in an instant. Considering her husband, she began to edge closer to him. “So if I tell you to remove all your clothing, you’ll do it without hesitation?”

Heat flashed in his eyes, quickly followed by trepidation. “Are you sure?”

She knew what he was asking; their physical relationship had fallen on their list of priorities in recent times. Her injuries, his grief were the overriding factors. But she missed the intimacy of laying with him and they were healed enough to come together once again.

“Yes. Take them off.”

Jamie did as she demanded, making short work of the task. Standing bare in front of her, Brienne had to take a moment to appreciate the masculine form, hardened and scarred from a lifetime as a soldier. The sight moved something inside of her; a combination of raw need and respect that tightened her stomach.

Already her breaths were becoming choppy, anticipation sending shocks of desire to her sex. She thought she could draw their coupling out, but it proved impossible, her body aching for his touch. She had barely stripped off her garments before she pounced of him, the movement propelling him backwards a few steps.

Covering his mouth with hers, she soaked in the sensation of his rough skin against hers; his hair tickling at her sensitive flesh. A deep moan sounded from her throat when his cock slid between her legs. Pleasure erupted as the smooth head rubbed against the bundle of pulsing nerves.

Gods, she had missed this.

Giving over all control to him, she allowed herself to be walked to the bed without breaking contact. Though urgency had taken hold of them, Jamie remembered the fading bruises on her back and guided her down with a care so sweet that tears threatened to well.

Brienne opened her legs wide, giving him space to sit between them. With an innocent smile plastered on her face, she palmed his rigid cock and pump him within her grip. She loved to touch him this way, his responses heightening her own molten need.

By the time he reluctantly batted her hand away, tiny flames ran along her skin, causing her to tremble. Jamie’s muscles were strained, his body wound so tightly from her teasing. The look he gave her promised retribution for pushing him so close to the edge without allowing him relief.

Brienne arched her back as his body floated over hers, his mouth closing over her peaked nipple. With languid movements he nipped and sucked, creating a delicious balance between pleasure and fleeting pain that she had come to crave.

Burrowing her hands through his hair, she watched in a frenzied daze as he trailed a path of kisses down her torso, stopping at her stomach, placing a tender kiss where their child rested. Her heart melted; the tender gesture so close to breaking her completely.

An entirely different sensation enveloped her when Jamie wedged himself between her legs and stroked her clit with his tongue. Her hips flew off the bed. She was unable to stay still, the pleasure too intense for her starving body.

Jamie locked her into place; she wasn’t going anywhere. Trapped beneath him, she had to take everything he gave her. Soon, mewls of need escaped her lips. She was about to explode. Frustration raked at her desire as Jamie intentionally prevented her from falling.

The bastard!

No more. Brienne used her strength to untangle herself from his hold and flipped herself over so that she was positioned above his face. Jamie knocked her knees apart, causing her to lose balance, allowing him to continue his sensual assault.

She could have freed herself; she chose not to. Leaning into his touch, she was wide open to him. It was agony and bliss; a duel sensation that had her hips undulating, searching frantically for that sweet bite of pleasure that would send her hurtling over the edge.

Just when she thought she could endure no more, Jamie finally gave her mercy and did _something_ with his tongue that delivered a shattering orgasm that left her panting. Boneless. Weightless.

She slid down his body and rested her forehead on his chest, requiring a moment or two of recovery. Jamie’s fingertips trailed down her spine, content to give her a minute to catch her breath. Rightly so after the stunt he’d just pulled.

As soon as she could breathe again, she straightened, conflicted about Jamie’s smug grin. It wouldn’t remain for long.

Rolling her hips over his cock, she studied his expression. Decidedly less smug already. Fisting the base, she lowered herself over him, hovering so that the moisture he’d wrung from her coated the head.

“Brienne.” The weak protest was music to her years.

She arched a brow. “Not very nice, is it?”

Beads of sweat formed on his forehead when she took an inch inside of her, squeezing her muscles around him. “You’re a witch.”

Satisfied that he had learnt his lesson, she allowed him to sink deeper inside, revelling in the fullness. Eyes heavy-lidded, she planted her hands on his chest and rode him. She wanted to savour this, elongated the connection for as long as possible.

Jamie reached up and curled his hand around the back of her neck, drawing her closer to him for a breathless kiss. Her world titled for a second. When it righted itself, she was once again on her back with her husband thrusting into her.

 

With a broken groan, Jamie slammed inside of his wife. There was nothing quite as healing as losing himself in her body, being embraced in those loving arms. No judgement. No demands. Just a sincere support that wrecked him.

“Yes, yes.” She mumbled against his wrist.

He surged, needing to be as deep as he could, as connected as he could. Bucking against her, he closed his eyes in rapture, finding a rhythm that satisfied them both. The sound of flesh slapping filled the air, the erotic nature of it spurring his hurried movements.

Jamie struggled with control, clamping down on the powerful hunger inside of him. With Brienne, when they were like this together, seeking control was a pointless exercise. She entranced him and his body reacted without thought.

Only instinct. Every time he heard her gasp, felt her nails bite into his skin, overwhelming need slammed into him.

Why had they wasted so much time? Regret was futile, but the question always reminded him to appreciate the rarity of their bond. The fact that they were in this moment was a marvel – they’d face so many challenges as individuals and as a couple, it might have been easier to walk away on more than one occasion.

But they had fought for each other in every sense of the word and in her love, he had found a safety that he’d never dreamed of being possible.

Brienne’s inner muscles constricted around his cock, earning a hoarse cry from his throat. Visibly shaking, he drove into her tight flesh.

“Jamie. Gods.” She screamed, coming around him.

Liquid heat caressed his throbbing shaft.

There were no words for the bliss that erupted as he spilled inside her shuddering body.

For a couple of seconds an unknown euphoria washed over him creating an unrivalled experience that he would remember for the rest of his days, reinforcing the ties that bound them.

Collapsing beside her, Jamie had difficulty finding his breath, moved by their lovemaking. In awe of her, he pulled her close for a loving kiss that he hoped would help stabilise his powerful emotions.

Still shaken, he enfolded her in his arms, the sight of her curled into his side sending pride bursting through his heart. She was his for eternity. There would be fights, arguments that would leave one or the pair of them stewing for days, but there was knowing in his soul that they would always look at each other with utter devotion.

He smoothed his hand over her hair. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No. Quite the opposite.” She smiled against his chest, her own skins damp with sweat.

Looking into her eyes, he whispered, “I’m so in love with you.”

Her own eyes sparkled with emotion. “I love you too.” The simple words meant so much coming from her lips, the most honourable person he had ever met. Somehow, he had won her heart. If anyone asked him how, he couldn’t give them an answer.

This is all he knew: they were fated. Brienne had brought light back into his life and shown him how to love in the purest of ways. In return, he would spend the rest of his life cherishing her. Protecting her.

Loving her.


	29. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU FOR READING!!

The sound of steel meeting rang through the air as Jamie neared the courtyard, his young daughter nestled comfortably in his arms. Three months had passed since her birth and each day, as she grew and developed in front of his eyes, he fell deeper in love with her.

Freya Lannister.

Jamie gazed down at her tiny face. Blue eyes peered up at hi with a serious expression that reminded him so much of her mother. A wispy patch of golden hair had appeared over the last few weeks similar to his own colour.

“I think your mother has defied my order.” He whispered, nuzzling her soft cheek. “Nothing new there. Shall we go and see how she’s doing?”

Freya blinked at him adorably.

Jamie cradled her as he strolled through the entry to the courtyard of Evenfall Hall, greeted by the sight of Brienne and Prodrick going for each other’s throat. Sighing, he moved closer to the wall, ensuring that he was a safe distance away from the sparring.

In the last month they had discussed when she would take up her sword again. In theory, he had no problems with it. All he had asked was to be present when the time came. Just to keep an eye on her and deliver swift punishment to anyone who landed a blow. In all seriousness, Brienne would kill him if he went through with it, but he could dream.

Bouncing Freya, he studied his wife. She moved with surprising ease considering the lengthy break the pregnancy had forced her to take. Determination shone in her eyes; she threw him a quick glance and for a split second her gaze lowered to Freya and they softened. Podrick took advantage and swung his weapon her way.

Brienne blocked it – barely - before driving Podrick backwards, steam coming from her ears.

“She’s going to give it to him now.” He told Freya in a low voice.

He watched with pride as Brienne commenced a barrage of attacks that succeeded in quickly overwhelming her squire. The young man stumbled and fell onto the floor, a chagrined expression taking over his face.

A brilliant smile lit up his wife’s face. “Well, done Podrick. Your footwork is still a bit sloppy.”

He scowled, “Yes, my lady.”

Brienne gave him a hand up and then walked to Jamie, holding her arms out for their daughter, pressing a kiss to the centre of her head. He would never get enough of seeing them together. As expected, she was a doting mother who marvelled in Freya’s every movement, just as he did.

The last months had been particularly hard of Brienne. Upon returning to Tarth in the early stages of her pregnancy, they had arrived to find her father gravely ill with little chance of recovery. Dying weeks before Freya’s birth, he had never got the chance to meet his first grandchild.

Brienne had weathered through the grief with her usual stubbornness, but at night she would wake with tears in her eyes. All he could do was hold her until the sadness passed just as she as done for him.

Freya’s arrival had revived her spirits. If he were honest, they were both so inexperienced at caring for a baby, that muddling through the first few months of her life had taken up all their energy, leaving little room for anything else.

But the stray thought penetrated their happy bubble. He would be entranced by a new noise or expression Freya made and out of nowhere, it would hit him that Tyrion wouldn’t meet his daughter. The same was true of Brienne and Selwyn.

With his illness and subsequent death, they had decided to remain on Tarth for the foreseeable future. Jamie like the beautiful island, finding it a thousand times more relaxing that the snakepit that had been King’s Landing. Another perk was that they received few visitors and had been able to stay far away from politics.

To his surprise, Arya had made the trip with her new husband, Gendry Baratheon. The boy was much more amicable than his father and by the end of their visit, Jamie had been disappointed to see them go, but they were eager to do some exploring.

Brienne had been glad of news from Winterfell with Arya confirming that all was well and Sansa was watching over the North with a careful eye on Daenerys Targaryen. Her rule had experienced its setbacks, but overall, she appeared to be doing a good job. She hadn't burned anyone alive in the last year so that was something.

A sweet gurgle drew his attention.

Brienne ran her finger over Freya’s cheek. “She’s growing too fast.” She grumbled.

Jamie laughed, though he often had the same thought. “She woke from her nap. We thought we’d come and find you.”

“I know I said you could be there when I finally began sparring again, but I just couldn’t wait any longer. Podrick is much improved.” She said sulkily.

“Yet you still managed to best him.”

“Now that I think about it, I’m sure he was going easy on me.” She confessed, turning to the man in question. “Podrick, come here.”

He ambled over and Jamie almost felt sorry for him. Brienne had become a little touchy as a result of being woken multiple times in the night to feed Freya; his wife loved her sleep.

Pod smiled at Freya. His daughter had that affect on people. Jamie’s regard for the man had increased substantially. Brienne had written to Pod soon after arriving in Tarth, releasing him of his vow to her, stating she would find him another knight to serve under as she was unable to do her duty to him. Instead of taking her up on her offer, he had shocked them both by turning up at Evenfall Hall in the sixth month of the pregnancy.

Jamie had inwardly howled at the uncertain way he had approached Brienne, seeming absolutely perplexed by her condition. The man had always had a slightly awkward way about him, but it had increased tenfold when he had laid eyes on her rounded stomach.

As soon as Freya had been born, he had been as captivated as them. Jamie encouraged the bond, wanting as many to watch over her as possible to ensure that she was always safe. Brienne accused him of paranoia, but his record with children was dire.

Freya would live a long life filled with every happiness.

“Can I hold her?” Pod asked.

Brienne rolled her eyes, but handed the child over. “Don’t think she will protect you from my wrath.”

Jamie slipped an arm around her waist, hoping it would have a calming effect. She leaned into him, sighing. “Pod, answer me honestly. Did you mollycoddle her?”

Cooing at the baby, he looked up. “No.”

“You do me a disservice if you fake a defeat.” Brienne stated, annoyance straining her tone.

Pod frowned, “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes.” He said, exasperation filling his voice.

Jamie listened on for another five minutes as Brienne grilled the poor boy. For once, he was glad of Freya’s frustrated cry signalling her hunger. Pod handed her back to Brienne, fleeing before Brienne could accuse him further.

Accompanying her inside, he guided her to their bedchamber, nodding every once in awhile as she ranted about Podrick.

Irrationally, the scene ignited a soul-deep joy that he couldn’t quite explain. He would die a happy man if all of his days were filled with such domestic everyday occurrences.

 

Brienne glared at the grin breaking out on her husband’s face.

“Jamie, I don’t find it amusing.” She warned, placing her daughter to her breast. Sat in the supportive chair by the hearth, she tried to relax her aching muscles, still peeved about Podrick’s stunt. No matter how much he denied it, she _knew_ he had gone easy on her.

“If you had waited for me to accompany you, we could have sparred and I wouldn’t have let you win.”

She scoffed. “If I had brought it up, we wouldn’t have retrieved the practice swords before you made an excuse to avoid it.”

She sent a questioning glance to Jamie when he didn’t respond, finding him transfixed by Freya suckling hungrily at her breast. The everyday things seemed to captivate him, perhaps because he had missed out on those small moments with his other children.

The way he was with Freya was too much for her heart to bear at times. He handled her with such care, always talking to her in a sweetened tone that their daughter responded to immediately. She loved the sound of her father’s voice.

“Jamie.” She called with a smile.

He snapped out of his daze. “We can spar tomorrow.”

“I will hold you to that.”

She would. After today, she realised that she felt insecure about her skill with a sword. It was a vital part of her identity and she needed to regain the ability she had lost without the daily practice to hone it.

But she wouldn’t trade Freya for anything.

Everyday she feared she was doing something wrong, that she would do damage to her child in some way, but the love she experienced when she looked into those blue eyes was comparable to nothing.

“I look at her sometimes and I don’t know what we did to deserve her.” Brienne whispered, stroking her soft skin with her fingertip.

“You were always going to be given a such a treasure. I, on the other hand, have done nothing to deserve the happiness that flows through me.”

“You’ve done plenty.” She countered, moving Freya to her other breast. “You’ve given me the most incredible year of my life.”

It was close to a year since they had fought together at the battle of Winterfell. In those moments, when they had been overrun with the dead, she had thought they only had seconds to live. She’d had so many regrets and most of them were wrapped up in her feelings for him.

They had been given a second chance and they had taken it, working hard to build a foundation that would stand the test of time. The year had held challenges, too many to count, but she trusted Jamie with her life. With their child’s life. With her most vulnerable emotions.

“Do you ever imagine what life would be like if I hadn’t followed you back to your chamber at Winterfell?”

“I don’t want to think about it.” She answered honestly. Her life had been good, but there had been a wall around her heart so unconsciously constructed that she had failed to realise how much damage it was doing to her. “Do you?”

“Only as a reminder of how lucky we are. It could have gone so differently at any point.” An anxious look entered his eye. She hated to see it; it was as if he thought that someone were playing a cruel trick on him. That he would wake to find them gone one day.

“But it didn’t.” She truly believed that it couldn’t have, that they were always meant to be.

Jamie stared at her with an intense expression. He rose and moved to her side, kneeling directly in front of her. He held out his finger to Freya, her miniscule hand gripping him tightly. He swallowed hard, eyes meeting hers. “Thank you.”

Tears prickled the backs of her eyes. “Jamie…”

He shook his head. “No, Brienne. Thank you. You have given me everything.”

Chin trembling, she reached out to touch his stubbly jaw. “I love you, husband. Beyond measure.”

They sat there for a long time; their family connected by a love that would never break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So tempted to make some kind of sequel/ part 2!! Conflicted 😐


End file.
